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THE 



WORKS OF VIRGIL. 



TRANSLATED 



By JOHN" DRYDEN. 

* 
TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. 

Vol. I. 




PHILADELPHIA: 
CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER. 

1869. 



?p v (pgon 



4 8 65 5 5 

JUL 2 1942 



THE 

LIFE OF VIRGIL. 



Et meas, si quid loquar audiendum 
Vocis accedet bona pars. Horace. 



-1 O write the life of a man who flourished two thou- 
sand years before us, and in a distant country, when 
ages of barbarity and ignorance have intervened, can be 
no very easy or pleasing task to the biographer. Facts 
containing novelty and importance, cannot be supposed, 
at this remote period, to be procured, or those that are 
already in our possession authenticated. To collect, 
therefore, the most probable incidents from former works, 
and to satisfy the curiosity of the uninformed, has been 
the principal aim of the writer of this sketch ; while, by 
an unremitting attention to classical information, he has 
endeavoured to render it amusing to the scholar, and in- 
structive to the illiterate. 

MANTUA, the capital of new Etruria, itself built 
three centuries before Rome, had the honour of giving 
birth to Publius Virgilius Maro. This great event hap- 
pened on or near the 15th of October, seventy years B. 
C. or during the first consulship of Pompey the Great and 
Licinius Crassus. Who his father was, and even to what 
country he belonged, has been disputed by the greatest 
writers of which literature has to boast. Some assert 
that, he was a potter of Andes ; but the most probable 
account is, that he was either a wandering astrologer, 
who practised physic, or a servant to one of this learned 
fraternity. It is observed by Juvenal, that medixus, ma- 



n LIFE OF VIRGIL. 

gv,s, usually went together, and that his course of life 
was principally followed by the Greeks and Syrians; to 
one of these nations therefore, it is presumed, Virgil owes 
his birth. His mother Maia, was indubitably of good ex- 
traction, being nearly related to Quinctilius Varus, of 
whom honourable mention is made in the history of the 
second Carthaginian war. In the life of Virgil, generally 
ascribed to Donatus, it is related, that this woman had 
certain dreams and presages, which the physician, recur- 
ring to his powers as an astrologer, endeavoured to eluci- 
date; but the fact, in all probability, was, that being her- 
self a woman of superior understanding, and moreover, 
captivated by the sweet disposition, and early indication 
of transcendent genius in her son, she took this method 
of working on the credulity of her husband, and inclin- 
ing him, as if directed by the Fates, to give Virgil that 
education, to which her rank and his talents so justly 
entitled him. Accordingly, he passed the " initia cetatis' n 
dt Mantua, thence he removed to Cremona, and after- 
wards to Milan. In all these places he prosecuted his 
studies with the most diligent application, associating 
with the eminent professors of every department of sci- 
ence and devoting whole nights to the study of the best 
Latin and Greek authors : in the latter he was greatly as 
sisted by his proximity to Marseilles, the only Greek co- 
lony that maintained its refinement and purity of lan- 
guage, amidst the overwhelming influence of all the bar- 
barous nations that surrounded it. At first, he devoted 
himself to the Epicurean philosophy, but receiving no 
satisfactory reasons for its tenets from his master, the ce- 
lebrated Syro, he passed over to the academic school, 
when physic and mathematics became his favourite sci- 
ences, and these he continued to cultivate, at leisure mo- 
ments, during his whole life. 

At Milan he composed a great number of verses, on 
various subjects, and in the warmth of early youth, 
fran ed a noble design of writing a Heroic 1'oem, On 
the Wars of Rome ; but after some attempts, was dis- 



LIFE OF VIRGIL. 7 

couraged from proceeding, by the abi uptness and asperity 
of the old Roman names. And here, it is said, he formed 
the plan, and collected the materials, of all those pieces 
which were to assist in the civilization of his country- 
men, and contest the palm of excellence with the com- 
positions of the greatest poet the world had produced. 
Some of these he had even begun, but a too intense ap- 
plication to his studies, together with abstinence and 
night-watching, had so impaired his health, that an im- 
mediate removal to a more southern part of Italy was 
deemed absolutely necessary for the preservation of his 
existence. Virgil fixed upon Naples, and visiting Rome 
in his way, had the honour, through the interest of his 
kinsman and fellow-student, Varus, of being introduced 
to Octavius, who received him with the greatest marks 
of esteem, and earnestly recommended his affairs to tin? 
protection of Poliio, then lieutenant of Cisalpine Gaul, 
where Virgil's patrimony lay, and who generously un- 
dertook to settle his domestic concerns. Having this as- 
surance, he pursued his journey to Naples. The charm- 
ing situation, the salubrity of the air, and the constant 
society of the greatest and most learned men of the time, 
who resorted to this place, not only re-established his 
health, but contributed to the formation of that style and 
happy turn of verse in which he surpasses all his cotem- 
poraries, and in less advantageous language, equals even 
Homer himself. 

It is singular that Virgil, deservedly called the princa 
of Latin poets, proposed only to employ this particular 
talent in *!ie amassing of such wealth as might enable 
him to prosecute, with less interruption, those noblei 
studies to which his elevated genius inclined him, arv! 
which he describes in these admirable lines. 

Mc vero primum dulces ante omnia Musfn, 
Qjiarum sacra fero ingenti percussus amore, 
Accipiant; coelique visa, et sidera, monstrent, 
Defectas, soils varios, Lunaeque labores ; 
Unde tremor terris, &c 



LIFE OF VIRGIL* 

But to rank among the poets of their country, was, at 
this time> the ambition of their greatest heroes, statesmen, 
and orators of the age. Cicero, Octavius, Pollio, Julius 
Caesar, and even the stoical Brutus, had been carried 
away by the impetuosity of the stream; but that genius 
winch had never deserted them in the Forum, or on the 
day of battle, shrunk dismayed, at a comparison with 
the lofty muse of Virgil : and although they endeavoured, 
by placing their poems in the celebrated libraries, to hand 
them down unimpaired to posterity, scarcely a single 
verse of these illustrious authors survived the age in 
which they lived. This preponderance of fashion, how- 
ever, was extremely favourable to Virgil ; as he had for 
some time devoted himself to the study of the law, and 
even pleaded one cause, with indifferent success, he now 
altogether abandoned the profession, and resumed with 
increased ardour the cultivation of that talent for which 
he afterwards became so eminently distinguished. 

Captivated at an early age by the pastorals of Theo- 
critus, he was ambitious of being the primitive introducer 
of that enchanting species of poetry among the Romans. 
His first performance in this way, entitled Alexis 7 is sup- 
posed to have appeared U. C. 709, when the poet was 
in his twenty-fifth year. Palwmon, which is a close imi- 
tation of the fourth and fifth Idylls of Theocritus, was 
probably his second ; but as this period of the life of 
Virgil is enveloped in a considerable degree of obscurity, 
and few writers on the subject having condescended to 
notice such trifling particulars as chronological arrange- 
ment, &c. little more than surmise can be offered to sa- 
tisfy the researches of the curious. The fifth Eclogue 
of Virgil is composed in allusion to the death and deifi- 
cation of Ocesar, and is supposed by Mr. Wharton, whose 
profound erudition undoubtedly rendered him competent 
to decide, to have been written subsequently to Silenus, 
Ins sixth Eclogue. This is said to have been publicly 
lecited on the stage, by the comedian Cytheris, and ti 



LIFE OF VIRGIL. 3 

have procured its authoi that celebrity and applause 
which the peculiar beauty and sweetness of the poem so 
justly merited. 

The fatal battle of Philippi, CJ. C. 712, in which Au- 
gustus and Antony were victorious, at once annihilated 
every shadow of liberty in the commonwealth. Those 
veteran legions, who had conquered the world, fought no 
more for the dearest rights of their Country; but at one 
time were its protectors, and at another its ravagers. As 
the a>nor patriot no longer inspired them, the treasmy 
of the Roman empire proved inadequate to allay their 
boundless thirst for wealth : Augustus, therefore, to si- 
lence their clamours, distributed among them the flour- 
ishing colony of Cremona, and to make up the deficiency, 
added part of the state of Mantua. In vain, as Appian 
relates, did the miserable mothers, with famishing infants 
at the ; r breasts, fill the Forum with their numbers, and 
the air with their lamentations ; in vain did the inhabi- 
tants complain of being driven like vanquished enemies 
from their native homes ; such scenes are familiar to the 
conquerors in a civil war : and those legions, who had 
sacrificed their own and country's liberty, must be re- 
compensed at the expense of justice, and the happiness 
of thousands. Virgil, involved in the common calamity, 
had recourse to his old patrons, Pollio and Maecenas, 
and supported by them, petitioned Agustus, not only for 
the possession of his own property, but for the reinstate- 
ment of his countrymen in theirs also ; which, after 
soiv.e hesitation, was denied, accompanied by a grant for 
the restitution of his individual estate. 

Full of gratitude for such distinguished favour, Virgil 
composed his Tityrus, in which he has introduced one 
shepherd complaining of the destruction of his farm, the 
anarchy and confusion of the times; and another, re- 
joicing that he can again tune his reed to love amidst his 
flocks ; promising to honour, as a superior beino- the re- 
storer of his happiness. 



10 LIFE OF VIRGIL. 



-Peus nobis haoc otia fecit. 



Namque erat ille mihi semper Deus ;* illius aram 
Saepe tener nostris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus. 

Unfortunately for Virgil bis joy was not of long con- 
tinuance, for on arriving at Mantua and producing his 
warrant to Arrius, a captain of fool, whom he found in 
possession of his house, the old soldier was so enraged 
at what he termed* the presumption of a poet, that he 
wounded him dangerously with his sword, and would 
certainly have killed him, had he not escaped by swim- 
ming hastily over the Mincius. Virgil was therefore 
compelled to return half the length of Italy, with a body 
reduced by sickness, and a mind depressed by disap- 
pointment, again to petition Augustus for the restoration 
of his estate. During this journey, which from the na- 
ture of his wound, was extremely slow, he is supposed 
to have written his Moeris, or ninth Eclogue, and this 
conjecture is rendered more probable by the disjointed 
matter, and continual want of connexion, perceivable 
through the whole composition ; displaying evidently the 
disorder at that time predominant in the poet's mind. 
However, on his arrival at Rome, he had the satisfaction 
to find, that effectual orders had been given, and the 
farm resigned into the hands of his procurator or bailiff, 
to whom the above pastoral is addressed. 

* Deus was used among- the Romans for any superior Being-, 
or Genius, and metaphorically for any emperor, great man, or 
patron; differing 1 considerably from the meaning of the word 
God in English. Thus Cicero, speaking of Plato, says, "Deus 
ille noster ;" and Lucretius, "Deus illefuitDtus inclyte Mtm- 
mi," of Epicurus : and Silius Italicus (lib. xiii. 734.) calls Vir- 
gil himself a God. It appears therefore, from these examples, 
that the poet might very well deify Augustus \ but when he 
adds farther, " That he will frequently sacrifice to L*«rj at his 
altar,* 1 it must be considered as poetical license, and the effer- 
vescence of gratitude ; for the Romans as a nation did not ele- 
vate Augustus to the rank of Deus, till at least five years after 
Virgil had written this, or U. C. 719 



LIFE OF VIRGIL. 11 

The Sibylline Oracles having received information 
from the Jews, that a child was to be born, who should 
be the Saviour of the world, and to whom nations and 
empires should bow with submission, pretended to fore- 
tell that this event would occur in the year of Rome 714, 
after the peace concluded between Augustus and An- 
tony. Virgil viewing this prophecy with tne vivid ima- 
gination of a poet, and willing to flatter the ambition of 
his patron, composed his celebrated Eclogue, entitled 
Pollio, in which he supposes the child, who was thus tc 
unite mankind and restore the golden age, to be the in- 
fant with which Octavia, wife to Antony, and naif sister 
to Augustus, was then pregnant by her former husband 
Marcellus. In this production the consul Poilio, Octavia, 
and even the unborn infant, are flattered with his usual 
delicacy: and the rival Triumviri, though a short time 
before, in open hostility, have the honour of equally shar- 
ing the poet's applause. 

While Poilio, who seems to have been the most ac- 
complished man of his age, and is celebrated as a poet, 
soldier, orator, and historian, was engaged in an expedi- 
tion against the Parthim, whom he subdued, Virgil ad- 
dressed to him his Pharma-ceutria, one of the most beau- 
tiful of all his Eclogues, and in imitation of a poem of the 
same name by his favourite author Theocritus. This pro- 
duction is the more valuable, as it has handed down to 
posterity, the superstitious rites of the Romans, and the 
Heathen notions of enchantment. Virgil himself seems 
to have been conscious of the beauty of his subject, and 
the dignity of the person whom he was addressing, and 
accordingly has given us, by the fertility of his genius 
and the brilliancy of his imagination, some of the most 
sublime images that are to be found in any of the wri- 
tings of antiquity. 

By the advice, and at the earnest entreaty of Augus- 
tus, Virgil, in his 34th year, retired to Naples, and la.d the 
plan of nis inimitable Georgics : a design as new in La- 
tin verse, as pastorals, before his, were in italy There 



12 LIFE OF VIRGIL. 

he undertook for the interest, and to promote the welfare 
of his country. As the continual civil wars had entirely 
depopulated and laid waste the land usually appropria- 
ted for cultivation; the peasants turned soldiers, and 
their farms a scene of desolation ; famine and insurrec 
tion were the inevitable consequences that followed so 
overwhelming a calamity. Augustus therefore resolved 
to revive the decayed spirit of husbandry, and began by 
employing Virgil to recommend it with all the insinuating 
charms of poetry. This work took up seven of the most 
vigorous years of his life, and fully answered the ex- 
pectation of his generous patron. The Georgics must 
be allowed to contain all those masterly beauties which 
might be expected from an exalted genius, whose judg- 
ment and imagination were in full maturity, and who 
had leisure to give the last polish and perfection to a 
work so exquisitely conceived. In the introduction to 
the third Georgic he hints at his projection of the JEneis, 
and by one of the finest allegories in ancient poetry, has 
expressed an intention of erecting a monument, " more 
lasting than brass," in honour of Augustus. 

YA viridi in campo templum de niarmoro ponam 
Propter aquam, tardis in^ens ubi flexibus errat 
Mincius, et tenera prretexit arundine ripas. 
In medio mibi Caesar erit, tern plum que tencbil. 

After this, he takes advantage of the noblest privilege of 
his art, and breaks away in a fit of prophetic enthusi- 
asm, predicting success in his intended enterprise, and, 
under the imagery of an ancient triumph, delineates the 
future glories of his magnificent design. 

Augustus having conquered his rival Antony, gave the 
last wound to expiring liberty, by usurping the exclusive 
government of the Roman empire. To reconcile a na- 
tion to this, naturally jealous of its freedom, seems to 
have been the grand object of Virgil in his iEneid. This 
nob*o poem, which equals the Iliad of Homer, and the 
sacred effusions of Milton, was begun in the 45th vft^r 
of the author's life, and has always been considered us 



LIFE OF VIRGIL. 13 

the most perfect political composition that ever appeared. 
Not an incident that could in any way tend to flatter 
the Roman people into a submission to the existing go- 
vernment, has escaped his penetrating judgment. He 
traces their origin to the Trojans, and makes Augustus a 
lineal descendant of JEneas. At the command of tne 
gods, they obey him, and in return, are promised the em- 
pire of the world. So anxious was Augustus for the re- 
sult of this poem, that he insisted on hearing part of it 
read, long before the whole was completed : gratitude, 
after threats and entreaties had been used in vain, at 
length induced its author to comply ; and knowing Oc- 
tavia, who had just lost her son Marcellus, would be 
present, Virgil fix'd upon the sixth book, and perhaps 
the finest part of the whole iEneid. His illustrious au- 
ditors, listened with all the attention which such interest- 
ing narrative and eloquent recital demanded, till he came 
to that beautiful lamention for the death of young Marcel- 
lus, beginning with 

O nate, ingentum luctum ne qutere tuorum ; 

and where, after exhausting panegyric, he has artfully 
suppressed the name of its object, till the concluding verse 

Tu Marcellus eris. — 
at these words Octavia, overcome with surprise ana sor- 
row, fainted away: but, on recovering, was so highly 
gratified at having her son thus immortalized, that she pre- 
sented the poet with ten sesterces for each line, amount- 
ing in the whole to upwards of two thousand pounds 
sterling. Having at length brought his JEneid to a con- 
clusion, Virgil proposed travelling into Greece, and de- 
voting three years to the correction and improvement of 
his favourite work. It was during his abscence on this 
occasion that Horace addressed to him that affection- 
ate ode, 

Sic te Diva potens Cypri, 
Sic Fratres Helenae, lucida sidera, 

Ventorumque regat pater, 
Obstrictis aliis, praeter lapyga. 



14 LIFE OF VIRGIL. 

Navis, qua} tibi creditum 
Debes Virgilium, finibus Atticis, 

Reddas incolumen, precor ; 
Et serves animae dimidium meai, 

Virgil having arrived at Athens, met with Augustus, who 
was returning from a victorious expedition to the East, 
and who requested the company of the poet back to Ita- 
ly. The latter deemed it his duty to comply •, but being 
desirous of seeing as many of the Grecian antiquities as 
the time would admit of, went for that purpose to Megara, 
where he was seized with a dangerous illness, (languo- 
rem nactus est) which, from neglect, and the agitation 
of the vessel in returning to Italy, proved mortal at Bruti- 
dusium, on the twenty-second of September, U. C. 735, 
when he had nearly completed his fifty-second year. 
Virgil died with the greatest tranquillity; and his remains 
being carried to Naples, were interred in a monument 
erected at a small distance from the city ; where it is 
still shown, with the following inscription, said to have 
been dictated by him on his death- bed. 

Mantua me genuit; Calabri rapuere ; tenet nunc 
Parthenope : cecini Pascus, Rura, Duces. 

In his will he had ordered that, the iEneid should be 
burnt, not having finished it to his mind ; but Augustus 
wisely forbade the destruction of a performance which 
will perpetuate his name forever, and which has proved 
him to be a descendant of the gods. It was therefore 
delivered to Varius and Tucca, Virgil's intimate friends, 
with the strictest charge to make no additions, but merely 
to publish it correctly in the state it then was. 

In person, Virgil was tall, and wide shouldered, of a 
dark swarthy complexion, which probably proceeded 
from the southern extraction of his father;, his constitu 
tion was delicate, and the most trifling fatigue, either from 
exercise or study, produced violent headach, and spitting 
of blood. In temper he was melancholy and thoughtful, 
loving retirement and contemplation. Though one of the 



LIFE OF VIRGIL. 15 

greatest geniuses of bis age, and the admiration of the 
Romans, he always preserved a singular modesty, and 
lived chaste, when the manners of the people were ex- 
tremely corrupt. His character was so benevolent and 
inoffensive that most of his cotemporary poets, though 
they envied each other, agreed in loving and esteeming 
him. He was bashful to a degree of timidity; his aspect 
and behaviour rustic, and ungraceful ; yet was so hon- 
oured by his countrymen, that once coming into the thea- 
tre, the whole audience rose out of respect to him. His 
fortune was large, supposed to be about seventy thousand 
pounds of our money, besides which, he possessed a no- 
ble mansion and well furnished library on the Esquiline 
Mount at Rome, and an elegant villa in Sicily. Both these 
last he left to Maecenas at his death, together with a con- 
siderable proportion of his personal property ; the re- 
mainder he divided between his relations and Augustus, 
the latter having introduced a politic fashion of being in 
every body's will, which alone produced a sufficient re- 
venue for a prince in those days. 

So much has been written on the poems of Virgil, both 
by ancient and modern authors, so many ingenious pane 
gyrics have appeared on the splendour of his diction, 
and the extent of his genius, that it would be little less 
man presumption to add any thing farthei in his praise. 
On the following translation, as indeed on every work of 
merit, there has existed a variety of opinions; several 
writers have gone so far as to attempt a new version of 
the Roman poet, but if we except a single instance, Jt 
may be fairly asserted, that they have uniformly failed, 
and even the laborious production of Mr. Pitt, corrected 
by the erudite Wharton, is greatly inferior, both in spirit 
and elevation of style, to the excellent translation by 
Mr. Dryden. Notwithstanding the difficulty of render- 
ing a celebrated Latin poem, with the splendour and e?i- 
ergy of the original, into a language so deficient in har- 
mony as the English, Mr. Dryden has so far succeeded, 
as tu hand down to posterity, in the opinion of that great 



15 LIFE OF VIRGIL. 

poet and critic Mr. Pope, the most, noble and spirited 
translation of Virgil that ever appeared in any language. 
It has survived the repeated attacks of talent and ma- 
lignity ; and it must be allowed, that as long as a regard 
for supereminent merit, and admiration of the illustrious 
Roman author shall exist, it will continue to be consi- 
dered by every man of real taste, an ornament to poeti- 
cal composition, and an honour to British genius. 

g. a 



THE 



W&mfo of f trgll 



PASTORAL I. 

OR, 

TITYRUS AND MELIBCEUS. 



ARGUMENT 

The occasion of the first pastoral was this. When Augustus 
had settled himself in the Roman empire, that he might re- 
ward his veteran troops for their past service, he distributed 
among them all the lands that lay about Cremona and Man- 
tua ; turning out the right owners for having sided with his 
enemies. Virgil was a sufferer among the rest; who after- 
wards recovered his estate by Maecenas's intercession, and, 
as an instance of his gratitude, composed the following pasto- 
ral, where he sets out his own good fortune in the person of 
Tityrus, and the calamities of his Mantuan nerghbours in the 
character of Meliboeus. 



MELIBCEUS. 

BENEATH the shade which beechen boughs diffuse, 
You, Tityrus, entertain your silvan muse. 
Round the wide world in banishment we roam, 
Forc'd from our pleasing fields and native home ; 
While, stretch'd at ease, you sing your happy loves, 
And Amaryllis fills the shady groves. 

TITYRUS. 

These blessings, friend, a deity bestow'd ; 
For never can I deem him less than God. 
The tender firstlings of my woolly breed 
Shall on his holy altar often bleed 
He gave me kine to graze the flow'ry plam> 
And to my pipe renew'd the rural strain. 



20 PASTORAL I. 



I envy not your fortune but admire, 

That, while the raging sword and wasteful fire 

Destroy the wretched neighbourhood around, 

No hostile arms approach your happy ground. 

Far difPrent is my fate: my feeble goats 

With pains I drive from their forsaken cotes. 

And this, you see, I scarcely drag along, 

Who, yeaning, on the rocks has left her young ; 

The hope and promise of my falling fold. 

My loss, by dire portents the gods foretold ; 

For, had I not been blind, I might have seen: — 

Yon riven oak, the fairest of the green, 

And the hoarse raven, on the blasted bough, 

By croaking from the left, presaged the coming blov?, 

But tell me, Tityrus, what heavenly pow'r 

PieservM your fortune in that fatal hour? 

TITYRUS. 

Fool that I was, I thought imperial Borne 
Like Mantua, where on market days we come, 
And thither drive our tender lambs from home. 
So kids and whelps their sires and dams express ; 
And so the great J measur'd by the less. 
But country towns, compar'd with her, appear 
Like shrubs, when lofty cypresses are near. 

MELIBG2US. 

What great occasion cali'd you hence to Rome r 

TITYRUS. 

Freedom, which came at length, tho' slow to come. 

Nor did my search of liberty begin, 

Till my black hairs were chang'd upon my chin ; 

Nor Amaryllis would vouchsafe a look, 

Till Galatea's meaner bonds I broke. 

Till then a helpless, hopeless, tiomely swain, 

1 sought not freedom, nor aspired to gain : 

Though many a victim from my folds was bought, 

And many a cheese to country markets brought, 



PASTORAL I. 21 

Yet all the little that I got, I spent, 
And still returned as empty as I went. 

MELIBCEUS. 

We stood amaz'd to see your mistress mourn, 
Unknowing that she pin'd for your return : 
We wonder'd why she kept her fruit so long, 
For whom so late th 1 ungather'd apples hung. 
But now the wonder ceases, since I see 
She kept them only, Tityrus, for thee. 
For thee the bubbling springs appear' d to mourn, 
Andwhisp'ring pines made vows for thy return. 

TITYRUS. 

What should I do ? — While here I was enchain'd 

No glimpse of godlike liberty remain'd ; 

Nor could I hope, in any place but there, 

To find a god so present to my pray'r. 

There first the youth of heavenly birth I view'd, 

For whom our monthly victims are renewM. 

He heard my vows, and graciously decreed 

My grounds to be restor'd, my former flocks to feed. • 

MEL1BCEUS. 

O fortunate old man ! whose farm remains — 

For you sufficient — and requites your pains ; 

Though rushes overspread the neighb'ring plains, 

Though here the marshy grounds approach your fields 

And there the soil a stony harvest yields. 

Your teeming ewes shall no strange meadows try, 

Nor fear a rot from tainted company, 

Behold ! yon bord'ring fence of sallow trees 

Is fraught with flow'rs, the flow'rs are fraught with bees 

The bus)' - bees, with a soft murmuring strain, 

Invite to gentle sleep the laboring swain. 

W T hile, from the neighb'ring rock, with rural songs, 

The pruner's voice the pleasing dream prolongs, 

Stock-doves and turtles tell their am'rous pain, 

And from the lofty elms, of love complain. 



22 TASTORAL I. 



Th' inhabitants of seas and skies shall change, 
And fish on shore, and stags in air, shall range, 
The banish'd Parthian dwell on Arar's brink, 
And the blue German shall the Tigris drink, 
Ere I, forsaking gratitude and truth, 
Forget the figure of that godlike youth. 

MELIBOXUS. 

But we must beg our bread in climes unknown, 

Beneath the scorching or the freezing zone : 

And some to far Oaxis shall be sold, 

Or try the Libyan heat, or Scythian cold ; 

The rest among the Britons be confin'd ; 

A race of men from all the world disjoined. 

O ! must the w r retched exiles ever mourn, 

Nor, after length of rolling years, return ? 

Are we condemn'd by fates unjust decree, 

No more our houses and our homes to see ? 

Or shall we mount again the rural throne, 

And rule the country kingdoms once our own ; 

Did we for these barbarians plant and sow ? 

On these, on these, our happy fields bestow ? 

Good heaven ! what dire effects from civil discord flow 

Now let me graft my pears, and prune the vine ; 

The fruit is theirs, the labour only mine. 

Farewell, my pastures, my paternal stock, 

My fruitful fields, and my more fruitful flock ! 

No more, my goats, shall I behold you climb 

The steepy cliffs, or crop the flow'rj thyme ! 

No more extended in the grot below, 

Shall see you browsing on the mountain's brow 

The prickly shrubs ; and after on the bare, 

Leap down the deep abyss, and hang in air. 

No more my sheep shall sip the morning dew; 

No more my song shall please the rural crew : 

Adieu mv tuneful pipe ! and all the world, adieu ! 



PASTORAL 23 

TITYRUS. 

This night, at least, with me forget your caie , 
Chestnuts, and curds and cream shall be your fare: 
The carpet-ground shall be with leaves o'erspreaa ; 
And boughs shall weave a cov'ring for your head. 
For see, yon sunny hill the shade extends ; 
And curling smoke from cottages ascends. 



PASTORAL II. 



OR, 

ALEXIS. 



ARGUMENT. 

The commentators can by no means agree on the person of Ale a- 
is, but are all of opinion that some beautiful youth is meant 
by hirn, to whom Virgil here makes love, in Corydon's lan- 
guage and simplicity. His way of courtship is wholly pas- 
toral : he complains of the boy's coyness ; recommends him- 
self for his beauty and skill in piping ; invites the youth into 
the country, where he promises him the diversions of tho 
place, with a suitable present of nuts and apples. But when 
he finds nothing will prevail, he resolves to quit his trouble- 
some amoui, and betake himself again to his former busi- 
ness. 



I OUNG Corydon, th' unhappy shepherd swain, 
The fair Alexis lov'd, but lov'd in vain ; 
And underneath the beechen shade, alone, 
Thus to the woods and mountains made his moan : — 
Is this, unkind Alexis, my reward ? 
And must I die unpitied, and unheard? 
Now the green lizard in the grove is laid ; 
The sheep enjoy the coolness of the shade; 
And Thestylis wild thyme and garlic beats 
For harvest hinds, o'erspent with toil and heats ; 
While in the scorching sun I trace m vain 
Thy flying footsteps o'er the burning plain. 
The creaking locusts with my voice conspire, 
They fried with heat, and I with fierce desire. 
How much more easy was it to sustain 
Proud Amaryllis, and her haughty reign, 



PASTORAL II. 25 

The scorns of young Menalcas, once my care. 

Though he was black, and thou art heavenly fair. 

Trust not too much to that enchanting face ! 

Beauty's a charm ; but soon the charm will pass. 

White lilies lie neglected on the plain, 

While dusky hyacinths for use remain. 

Vly passion is thy scorn ; nor wilt thou knov* 

What wealth I have, what gifts I can bestow 

What stores my dairies and my folds contain 

A thousand lambs that wander on the plain ; 

New milk, that, all the winter, never fails, 

And, all the summer, overflows the pails. 

A mphion sung not sweeter to his herd, 

When summon'd stones the Theban turrets rear'd. 

Nor am I so deform'd ; for, late I stood 

Upon the margin of the briny flood : 

The winds were still ; and, if the glass be true, 

With Daphnis I may vie, though judg'd by you. 

leave the noisy town : O come and see 
Our country cots, and live content with me ! 
To wound the flying deer, and from their cotes 
With me to drive a-field the browsing goats ; 
To pipe and sing, and, in our country strain, 
To copy or perhaps contend with Pan. 

Pan taught to join with wax unequal reeds ; 
Pan loves the shepherds, and their flocks he feeds. 
Nor scorn the pipe : Amyntas, to be taught, 
With all his kisses would my skill have bought. 
Of seven smooth joints, a mellow pipe [ have, 
Which, with his dying breath, Damoetas gave, 
And said, " this, Corydon, I leave to thee ; 
For only thou deserv'st it after me." 
His eyes Amyntas durst not upward lift ; 
For much he grudg'd the praise, but more the gift. 
Besides, two kids, that in the valley stray'd, 

1 found by chance, and to my fold convey'd, 
They drain two bagging udders ev'ry day ■ 
And these shall be companions of thy play; 



26 PASTORAL II. 

Both fleck' d with white, the true Arcadian stain, 

Which Thestylis had often begg'd in vain : 

And she shall have them, if again she sues, 

Since you the giver and the gift refuse. 

Come to my longing arms, my lovely care ! 

And take the presents which the nymphs prepare. 

White lilies in full canisters they bring, 

With all the glories of the purple spring. 

The daughters of the flood have search'd the mead 

For violets pale, and cropp'd the poppy's head, 

The short narcissus and fair daffodil, 

Pansies to please the sight, and cassia sweet to smell ; 

And set soft hyacinths with iron-blue, 

To shade marsh marigolds of shining hue; 

Some bound in order, others loosely strow'd, 

To dress thy bow'r, and trim thy new abode. 

Myself will search our planted grounds at home, 

For downy peaches and the glossy plum : 

And thrash the chestnuts in the neighb'ring grove, 

Such as my Amaryllis us'd to love. 

The laurel and the myrtle sweets agree ; 

And both in nosegays shall be bound for thee. 

Ah, Corydon ! ah poor unhappy swain I 

Alexis will thy homely gifts disdain : 

Nor, should'st thou offer all thy little store, 

Will rich lolas yield, but offer more. 

What have I done, to name that wealthy swain ? 

So powerful are his presents, mine so mean ! 

The boar amidst my crystal streams I bring; 

And southern winds to blast my flowery spring. 

Ah cruel creature ! whom dost thou despise ? 

The gods, to live in woods, have left the skies; 

And godlike Paris, in the Idsean grove, 

To Priam's wealth preferred (Enone's love. 

In cities which she built, let Pallas reign; 

Tow'rs are for gods, but forests for the swain. 

The greedy lioness the wolf pursues, 

The wolf the kid, thewan'on kid the browse; 



PASTORAL II. 27 

Alexis, thou art chas'd by Corydon : 
All follow several games, and each his own. 
See, from afar the fields no longer smoke ; 
The sweating steers, unharness' d from the yoke. 
Bring, as in triumph, back the crooked plough ; 
The shadows lengthen as the sun goes low; 
Cool breezes now the raging heats remove : 
Ah, cruel heav'n ! that made no cure for love ! 
1 wish for balmy sleep, but wish in vain : 
Love has no bounds in pleasure, or in pain. 
What frenzy, shepherd, has thy soul possess'd ? 
Thy vineyard lies half prun'd and half undress'd. 
Quench, Corydon, thy long unanswered fire! 
Mind what the common wants of life require: 
On willow twigs employ thy weaving care ; 
And find an easier love, though not so fair. 



PASTORAL III. 

OR, 

PAL&MON. 
MENAuCAS, DAMCETAS, PAL.EMON. 



ARGUMENT. 

D&.moetas and Menalcas, after some smart strokes of country 
raillery, resolve to tiy who has the most skill at song ; and ac- 
cordingly make their neighbour Palaemon judge of their per- 
formances ; who, after a full hearing of both parties, declares 
himself unfit for the decision of so weighty a controversy, and 
leaves the victorv undetermined, 



.11 0, swain ! what shepherd owns those ragged sheep? 

DAMCETAS. 

iEgon's they are : he gave them me to keep. 

MENALCAS. 

Unhappy sheep of an unhappy swain ! 
While he Nesera courts, but courts in vain, 
And fears that I the damsel shall obtain, 
Thou, varlet, dost thy master's gains devour; 
Thou milk'st his ewes and often twice an hour; 
Of grass and fodder thou defraud'st the dams, 
And of their mother's dugs the starving lambs. 

DAMCETAS. 

Good words young catamite, at least to men ; 
We know whc did vour business, how, and when : 



PASTORAL TTI. 29 

And in what chapel too you play'd your prize, 
And what the gods observ'd with leering eyes, — 
The nymphs were kind and laugh 1 d : and there your 
safety lies. 

MENALCAS. 

Yes,when I cropt the hedges of the leys, 
Cut Micon's tender vines, and stole the stays ! 

DAMOETAS. 

Or rather, when, beneath yon ancient oak, 
The bow of Daphnis, and the shafts, you broke* 
When the fair boy received the gift of right ; 
And, but for mischief, you had died for spite. 

MENALCAS. 

What nonsense would the fool thy master prate, 

When thou, his knave, canst talk at such a rate ! 

Did I not see you, rascal, did 1 not, 

When you lay snug to snap j T oung Damon's goat ? 

His mongrel bark'd : I ran to his relief, 

And cried, " There, there he goes ! stop, stop the thief!" 

Discover'd, and defeated of your prey, 

You skulk 1 d behind the fence, and sneak'd away. 

DAM(ETAS. 

An honest man may freely take his own : 
The goat was mine, by singing fairly won. 
A solemn match was made : he lost the prize. 
Ask Damon, ask, if he the debt denies. 
I think he dares not : If he does, he lies. 

MENALCAS. 

Thou sing with him, thou booby ! — Never pipe 
Was so profan'd to touch that blubber'd lip. 
Dunce at the best! in streets but scarce allow'd 
To tickle, on thy straw, the stupid crowd. 

DAMCETAS. 

To bring it to the t rial, will you dare 

Our pipes, our skiD, our voices, to compare? 



30 PASTORAL III. 

My brinded heifer to the stake I lay: 
Two thriving calves she suckles twice a day, 
And twice, besides her beestings, never fail 
To store the dairy with a brimming pail. 
Now back your singing with an equal stake. 

MENALCAS. 

That should be seen, if I had one to make. 

You know too well I feed my father's flock : 

What can I wager from the common stock ? 

A stepdame too I have, a cursed she, 

Who rules my hen-peck'd sire, and orders me •, 

Both number twice a day the milky dams ; 

And once she takes the tale of all the lambs. 

But, since you will be mad, and since you may 

Suspect my courage, if I should not lay, 

The pawn I proffer shall be full as good : 

Two bowls 1 have, well turn'd, of beechen wood: 

Both by divine Alcimedon were made: 

To neither of them yet the lip is laid. 

The lids are ivy: grapes in clusters lurk 

Beneath the carving of the curious work. 

Two figures on the sides emboss'd appear — 

Conon, and, what's his name, who made the sphere, 

And show'd the seasons of the sliding year, 

Instructed in his trade the lab'ring swain, 

And when to reap, and when to sow the grain ? 

DAMCETAS. 

And I have two, to match your pair, at home ; 
The wood the same ; from the same hand they come 
(The kimbo handles seem with bear's-foot carv'd) 
And never yet to table have been serv'd ; 
Where Orpheus on his lyre laments his love, 
With beasts encompass'd and a dancing grove. 
But these, nor all the proffers you can make, 
Are worth the heifer which I set to stake. 

MENALCAS. 

No more delays, vain boaster, but begin ! 
I prophesy beforehand, I shall win. 



PASTORAL III. 31 

Palsemon shall be judge how ill you rhyme. 
I'll teach you how to brag another time. 



Rhymer, come on ! and do the worst you can. 
I fear not you, nor yet a better man. 
With suence, neighbour, and attention, wait: 
For 'tis a business of a high debate. 

PAL^MON. 

Sing then : the shade affords a proper place ; 

The trees are cloth'd with leaves, the fields with grass; 

The blossoms blow ; the birds on bushes sing ; 

And nature has accomplish'd all the spring. 

The challenge to Damoetas shall belong : 

Menalcas snail sustain his under-song: 

Each in his turn, your tuneful numbers bring: 

By turns the tuneful Muses love to sing. 

DAMOETAS. 

From the great father of the gods above 
My Muse begins ; for all is full of Jove ; 
To Jove the care of heav'n and earth belongs ; 
My flocks he blesses, and he loves my songs. 

MENALCAS. 

Me Phoebus loves ; for he my Muse inspires ; 
And, in her songs, the warmth he gave, requires. 
For him, the god of shepherds and their sheep, 
My blushing hyacinths and my bays 1 keep. 

DAMOITAS. 

My Phyllis me with pelted apples plies : 
Then tripping to the wood the wanton hies, 
And wishes to be seen before she flies. 

MENALCAS. 

But fair Amyntas comes unask'd to me, 
And offers love, and sits upon my knee. 
Not Delia to my dogs is known so well as he. 



32 



PASTORAL TIT. 



To the dear mistress of my love-s'.ck mind, 
Her swain a pretty present has desigrTd : 
J saw two stock-doves billing, and ere long 
Will take the nest; and hers shall be the young. 



Ten ruddy wildings in the wood I found, 

And stood on tip-toes, reaching from the ground; 

I sent Amyntas all my present store ; 

And will, to-morrow, send as many more. 

DAMCETAS. 

The lovely maid lay panting in my arms ; 
And all she said and did was full of charms. 
Winds ! on your wings to heav'n her accents bear j 
Such words as heav'n alone is fit to hear. 

MENALCAS. 

Ah ! what avails it me, my love's delight, 
To call you mine, when absent from my sight ? 
I hold the nets, while you pursue the prey ; 
And must not share the dangers of the day. 

DAMOITAS. 

I keep my birthday : send my Phyllis home : 
At shearing-time, Iolas you may come. 

MENALCAS. 

With Phyllis I am more in grace than you: 

Her sorrow did my parting steps pursue: 

" Adieu, my dear !" she said, " a long adieu !" 

DAMffiTAS. 

The nightly wolf is baneful to the fold, 

Storms to the wheat, to buds the bitter cold -, 

But, from my frowning fair, more ills I find, 

Than from the wolves, and storms, and winter-wind. 



1 ASTORAL III. 33 

MENALCAS. 

The kids with pleasure browse the bushy plain ; 

The showers are grateful to the swelling gram, 
To teeming ewes the sallow's tender tree ; 
But, more than all the world, my love to me. 

DAiYKETAS. 

Pollio ray rural verse vouchsafes to read : 
A. heifer, Muses, for your patron breed. 

MENALCAS. 

My Pollio writes himself: — a bull he bred, 
With spuming heels, and with a butting head. 

1/ 1M(ETAS. 

Who Pollio loves, and who his Muse admires, 
Let Pollio's fortune crown his full desires. 
Let myrrh instead of thorn his fences fill, 
And show'rs of honey from his oaks distil. 

MENALCAS. 

Who hates not living Bavins, let him be 
(Dead Maevius!) damn'd to love thy works and thee * 
The same ill taste of sense would serve to join 
Dog-foxes in the yoke, and shear the swine. 

DAMCETAS. 

Ye boys, who pluck the flow'rs, and spoil the spring, 
Beware the secret snake that shoots a sting. 

MENALCAS. 

Graze not too near the banks, my jolly sheep : 
The ground is false ; the running streams are deep: 
See, they have caught the father of the flock. 
Who dries his fleece upon the neighboring rock. 

DAMCETAS. 

From rivers drive the kids, and sling your hook 
Anon I'll wash 'hem in the shallow brook. 

VOL 1. 3 



34 PASTORAL III. 

MENALCAS. 

To fold, my flock!— when milk is dried with heat, 
In vain the milk-maid tugs an empty teat. 

DAMCETAS. 

How lank my bulls from plenteous pasture come ! 
But love, that drains the herd, destroys the groom. 

MENALCAS. 

My flocks are free from love, yet look so thin, 
Their bones are barely covered with their skin. 
What magic has bewitch'd the woolly dams, 
And what ill eyes beheld the tender lambs? 

DAMCETAS. 

Say, where the round of heav'n, which all contains, 
To three short ells on earth our bight restrains: 
Tell that, and raise a Phoebus for thy pains. 

MENALCAS. 

Nay tell me first, in what new region springs 
A flow'r, that bears inscrib'd the names of kings ; 
And thou shalt gain a present as divine 
As Phcebus' self: for Phyllis shall be thine. 

PAL/EMON. 

So nice a difference in your singing lies, 
That both have won, or both deserv'd the prize. 
Rest equal happy both ; and all who prove 
The bitter sweets, and pleasing pains of love. 
Now dam the ditches, and the floods restrain: 
Their moisture has already Jreuch'd the plain. 



PASTORAL IV. 

OR, 

POLLIO. 



ARGUMENT. 

f he Poet celebrates the birthday of Saloninns, the son of Pol 
lio, born in tie consulship of his father, afler the taking of 
S&loajn, a city in Dalmatia. Many of the verses are transla- 
ted from one of the Sibyls, who prophesied of our Saviour'! 
birth. 



felCILTAN Muse, begin a loftier strain ! 

Tho' lowly shrubs, and trees that shade the plain, 

Delight not all ; Sicilian Muse, prepare 

To make the vocal woods deserve a consul's care. 

The last great age, ioretold by sacred rhymes, 

Renews its finish'd course : Saturnian times 

Roll round again : and mighty years, begun 

From their first orb in radiant circles run. 

The base degen'rate iron offspring ends ; 

A golden progeny from heaven descends. 

O chaste Lucina ! speed the mother's pains : 

And haste the glorious birth ! thy own Apollo reigns! 

The lovely boy, with his auspicious face, 

Shall Follio's consulship and triumph grace: 

Majestic months set out(with him) to their appointed 

race. 
The father hinish'd virtue shall restore ; 
And crimes shall threat the guilty world no more. 
The son shall lead the life of gods, and be 
By gods and heroes seen, and gods and heroes see. 



36 PASTORAL IV. 

The jarring nations he in peace shall bind, 

/vnd with paternal virtues rule mankind. 

Unbidden earth shall wreathing ivy bring, 

And fragrant herbs (the promises of spring,) 

As her first ofPrings to her infant king. 

The goats with strutting dugs shall homeward speed, 

And lowing herds secure from lions feed. 

His cradle shall with rising flow'rs be crown'd : 

The serpent's brood shall die : the sacred ground 

Shall weeds and pois'nous plants refuse to bear; 

Each common bush shall Syrian roses wear. 

But when heroic verse his youth shall raise, 

And form it to hereditary praise, 

Unlabour'd harvests shall the fields adorn, 

And cluster'd grapes shall blush on every thorn ; 

The knotted oaks shall showers of honey weep ; 

And thro' the matted grass the liquid gold shall creep. 

Yet, of old fraud some footsteps shall remain : 

The merchant still shall plough the deep for gain : 

Great cities shall with walls be compass'd round ; 

And sharpen'd shares shall vex the fruitful ground ; 

Another Tiphys shall new seas explore ; 

Another Argo land the chiefs upon th' Iberian shore; 

Another Helen other wars create, 

And great Achilles urge the Trojan fate. 

But, when to ripen'd manhood he shall grow, 

The greedy sailor shall the seas forego : 

No keel shall cut the waves for foreign ware ; 

For every soil shall every product bear. 

The lab'ring hind his oxen shall disjoin : 

No plough shall hurt the glebe, no pruning-hook the 

vine; 
Nor wool shall in dissembled colour shine ; 
But the luxurious father of the fold, 
With native purple, and unborrow'd gold, 
Beneath his pompous fleece shall proudly sweat j 
And under Tyrian robes the lamb shall bleat. 



PASTORAL rv. 37 

The Fates, when they this happy web have spun, 

Shall bless the sacred clue, and bid it smoothly lun. 

Mature in years, to ready honours move, 

0,of celestial seed ! O, foster-son of Jove ! 

See, lab'ring Nature calls thee to sustain 

The nodding frame of heav'n, and earth, and main ! 

See to their base restored, earth, seas, and air; 

And joyful ages, from behind, in crowding ranks appeal. 

To sing thy praise, would heav'n my breath prolong, 

Infusing spirits worthy such a song, 

Not Thracian Orpheus should transcend my lays, 

Nor Linus crown'd with never fading bays ; 

Though each his heav'nly parent should inspire ; 

The Muse instruct the voice, and Phoebus tune the lyre. 

Should Pan contend in verse, and thou my theme, 

Arcadian judges should their god condemn. 

Begin, auspicious boy I to cast about 

Thy infant eyes, and, with a smile thy mother single out 

Thy mother well deserves that short delight. 

The nauseous qualms of ten long months and travail to 

requite. 
Then smile ! the frowning infant's doom is read : 
No god shall crown the board, nor goddess bless the bed. 



PASTORAL V. 

OR, 

DAPHNIS. 



ARGUMENT. 

Mopsus and Menalcas, two very expert shepherds at a song, be 
gin one by consent to the memory of Daphnis, who is sup 
posed by the best critics to represent Julius C^sar. Mopsus 
laments his death; Menalcas proclaims his divinity; the 
whole eclogue consisting of an elegy and an apotheosis. 



MENALCAS. 

^INCE on the downs our flocks together feed, 
And since my voice can match your tuneful reed, 
Why sit we not beneath the grateful shade, 
Which hazels, intermix' d with elms, have made? 

MOPSUS. 

Whether you please that sylvan scene to take, 
Where whistling winds uncertain shadows make ; 
Or will you to the cooler cave succeed, 
Whose mouth the curling vines have overspread ? 

MENALCAS. 

Your merit and your years command the choice : 
Amyntas only rivals you in voice. 

MOPSUS. 

What will not that presuming shepherd dare, 
Who thinks his voice with Phoebus may compare? 

MENAI CAS. 

Begin you first , if either Alcon's praise, 
Or dying Philhs, have inspired your lays: 



PASTORAL V 39 

If her you mourn, or Codrus you commend, 
Begin ; and Tityrus your flocks shall tend. 



Or shall I rather the sad verse repeat, 

Which on the beech's bark I lately writ? 

I writ, and sung betwixt. Now bring the swain 

Whose voice you boast, and let him try the strain. 

MEXALCAS. 

Such as the shrub to the tall olive shows, 
Or the pale sallow of the blushing rose; 
Such is his voice, if I can judge aright, 
Compar'd to thine in sweetness and in height. 

MOPSUS 

No more, but sit, and hear the promis'd lay: 
The gloomy grotto makes a doubtful day. 
The nymphs about the breathless body wait 
Of Daphnis, and lament his cruel fate. 
The trees and floods were witness to their tears : 
At length the rumour reach'd his mother's ears. 
The wretched parent, with a pious haste, 
Came running, and his lifeless limbs embraced. 
She sigh'd, she sobb'd; and furious with despair, 
She rent her garments, and she tore her hair, 
Accusing all the gods, and eVry star. 
The swains forgot their sheep, nor near the brink 
Of running waters brought their herds to drink. 
The thirsty cattle, of themselves, abstain'd 
From water, and their grassy fare disdain'd. 
The death of Daphnis woods and hills deplore , 
They cast the sound to Libya's desert shore ; 
The Libyan lions hear, and hearing roar. 
Fierce tigers Daphnis taught the yoke to bear, 
And first with curling ivy dress'd the spear. 
Daphnis did rites to Bacchus first ordain, 
And holy revels for his reeling train. 



^0 PASTORAL V. 

As vines the trees, as grapes the vines adorn, 

As bulls the herds, and fields the yellow corn ; 

So bright a splendour, so divine a grace, 

The glorious Daphnis cast on his illustrious race. 

When envious Fate the godlike Daphnis took, 

Our guardian gods the fields and plains forsook: 

Pales no longer swell'd the teeming grain, 

Nor Phoebus fed his oxen on the plain : 

No fruitful crop the sickly fields return ; 

But oats and darnel choke the rising corn. 

And where the vales with violets once was crownM 

Now knotty burns and thorns disgrace the ground. 

Come, shepherds, come, and strew with leaves the plain 

Such fun'ral rites your Daphnis did ordain. 

With cypress boughs the crystal fountains hide, 

And softly let the running waters glide. 

A lasting monument to Daphnis raise, 

l-Vith this inscription to record his praise; 

"Daphnis, the fields' delight, the shepherds 7 love, 

Renown'd on earth, and deifi'd above ; 

Whose flock excell'd the fairest on the plains, 

But less than he himself surpass'd the swains." 

MENALCAS. 

O heav'nly poet ! such thy verse appears, 

So sweet, so charming to my ravish'd ears, 

As to the weary swain with cares opprest, 

Beneath the sylvan shade, refreshing rest; 

As to the fev'rish traveller, when first 

lie finds a crystal stream to quench his thirst. 

fn singing, as in piping, you excel ; 

And scarce your master could perform so well. 

O fortunate young man ! at least your lays 

Are next to his, and claim the second praise. 

Such as they are, my rural songs I join, 

To raise our Daphnis to the pow'rs divine ; 

For Daphnis was so good, to love whate'er was mine. 



PASTORAL V, 41 

MOPSUS. 

How is my soul with such a promise rais'd I 
For both the boy was worthy to be prais'd, 
And Stimicon has often made me long 
To hear, like him, so soft, so sweet a song. 

MENALCAS. 

Daphnis, the guest of heaven, with wond'ring eyes 

Views, in the milky way, the starry skies. 

And far beneath him, from the shining sphere, 

Beholds the moving clouds, and roiling year. 

For this with cheerful cries the woods .esoum 1 , 

The purple spring arrays the varied ground, 

The nymphs and shepherds dance, and Pan himself* 

is crown'd. 
The wolf no longer prowls for nightly spoils, 
Nor birds the springes fear, nor stags the toils; 
For Daphnis reigns above, and deals from thence 
His mother's milder beams, and peaceful influence. 
The mountain-tops unshorn, the rocks rejoice; 
The lowly shrubs partake of human voice. 
Assenting Nature, with a gracious nod, 
Proclaims him, and salutes the new-admitted god. 
Be still propitious, ever good be thine ! 
Behold ! four hallow'd altars we design ; 
And two to thee, and two to Phoebus lise; 
On both is offer* d annual sacrifice. 
The holy nrie^ts, at each returning year, 
Two bowis or milk and two of oil shall bear ; 
And I myself the guests with friendly bowls will 

cheer. 
Two goblets will I crown with sparkling wine, 
The gen'rous vintage of the Chian v ; ne: 
These will I pour to thee, and make the nectar 

thine. 
In winter shall the genial feast be made 
Before the fire ; by summer in the shade, 
Damostas shall perform the rites divine ; 
And Lyctian iEjgon in the song shall join. 



42 PASTORAL V. 

Alphesiboeus, tripping, shall advance, 

And mimic satyrs in his antic dance, 

When to the nymphs our annual riles we pay, 

And when our fields with victims we survey — 

While savage boars delight in shady woods, 

And finny fish inhabit in the floods — 

While bees on thyme, and locusts feed on dew — 

Thy grateful swains these honours shall renew. 

Such honours as we pay to pow'rs divine, 

To Bacchus and to Ceres, shall be thine. 

Such annual honours shall be given ; and thou 

Shalt hear, and shalt condemn thy suppliants to their vow. 

MOPSUS. 

What present, worth thy verse, can Mopsus find ? 
Not the soft whispers of the southern wind, 
That play through trembling trees, delight me more? 
Nor murmuring billows on the sounding shore : 
Nor winding streams that tnrough the valley glide, 
And the scarce cover'd pebbles genily chide. 

MENALCAS. 

Receive you first this tuneful pipe, the same 
That play'cl my Corydon's unhappy flame: 
The same that sungNecera's conquering eyes, 
And, had the judge been just, had won the prize. 

MOPSUS. 

Accept from me this sheep-hook in exchange; 

The handle brass : the knobs in equal ran^e. 

Antigenes, with kisses, often tried 

To beg this present, in his beauty's pride, 

When youth and love are hard to be denied. 

But what I could refuse to his request, 

Is yours unask'd ; for you deserve it best. 



PASTORAL VI. 

OR, 

SILENUS. 



ARGUMENT. 

Two young- shepherds, Chromis and Mnasylus, having beep 
often promised a song by Silenus, chance to catch him asleep 
in this pastoral -, where they bind him hand and foot, an4 
then claim his promise. Silenus, finding they would be put off 
no longer, begins his song, in which he describes the forma- 
tion of the universe, and the original of animals, according tc 
the Epicurean philosophy ; and then runs through the most 
surprising transformations which have happened in Nature 
since her birth. This pastoral was designed as a compliment 
to Syron the Epicurean, who instructed Virgil and Varus in 
the principles of that philosophy. Silenus acts as tutor, Chro- 
mis and Mnasylus as the two pupils. 



1 FIRST transferred lo Rome Sicilian strains; 

Nor blush'd the Doric Muse to dwell on Mantuan plains, 

But when I tried her tender voice, too 3 r oung, 

And fighting kings and bloody battles sung, 

Apollo check'd my pride, and bade me feed 

My fattening flocks, nor dare beyond the reed. 

Admonish'd thus, while every pen prepares 

To write thy praises, Varus, and thy wars, 

My past'ral Muse her humble tribute brings ; 

And yet not wholly uninspir'd she sings : 

For all who read, and, reading, not disdain 

These rural poems, and their lowly strain, 

The name of Varus, oft inscrib'd shall see 

In ev'ry grove, and ev'ry vocal tree ; 

And all the sylvan reign shall sing of thee : 



44 PASTORAL vr. 

Thy name, to Phoebus and the muses known, 

Shall in the front of ev'ry page be shown ; 

For, he who sings thy praise secures his own. 

Proceed, my Muse! — Two Satyrs on the ground, 

Stretch'd at his ease, their sire Silenus found. 

Doz'cl with his fumes, and heavy with his load, 

They found him snoring in his dark abode, 

And seiz'd with youthful arms the drunken god. 

His rosy wreath was dropt not long before, 

Borne by the tide of wine, and floating on the floor. 

His empty can, with ears half worn away, 

Was hung on high, to boast the triumph of the day. 

Invaded thus, for want of belter bands, 

His garland they unstring, and bind his hands: 

For, by the fraud ful god deluded long, 

They now resolve to have their promis'd song. 

JEgle came in, to make their party good — 

The fairest Nai's of the neighboring flood — 

And, while he stares around with stupid eyes, 

His brows with berries, and his temples, dies. 

He rinds the fraud, and with a smile demands, 

On what design the boys had bound his hands. 

•* Loose me," he cried ; " 'twas impudence to find 

A sleeping god ; 'tis sacrilege to bind. 

To you the promis'd poem 1 will pay ; 

The nymph shall be rewarded in her way." 

He rais'd his voice, and soon a num'rous throng 

Of tripping Satyrs crowded to the song ; 

And sylvan Fauns, and savage beasts, advanc'd ; 

And nodding forests to the numbers danc'd. 

Not by Hsemonian hills the Thracian bard, 

Nor awful Phoebus was on Pindus heard 

With deeper silence, or with more regard. 

He sung the secret seeds of Nature's frame ; 

How seas, and earth, and air, and active flame, 

Fell through the mighty void, and, in their fall, 

Were blindly gather'd in this goodly bail. 



PASTORAL VI. 45 

The tender soil, then stiff 'ning by degrees, 
Shut from the bounded earth the bounding seas. 
Then earth and ocean, various forms disclose ; 
And a new sun to the new world arose ; 
And mists, condens'd to clouds, obscure the sky, 
And clouds, dissolv'd, the thirsty ground supply. 
The rising trees the lofty mountains grace: 
The lofty mountains feed the savage race, 
Vet few, and strangers, in tlr unpeop^d place. 
F'rom thence the birth of man the songpursu'd, 
And how the world was lost, and how renew'd: 
The reign of Saturn, and the golden age ; 
Prometheus' theft, and Jove's avenging rage ; 
The cries of Argonauts for Hylas drown'd, 
With whose repeated name the shores resound; 
Then mourns the madness of the Cretan queen: 
Happy for her if herds had never been. 
What fury, wretched woman, seiz'd thy breast ? 
The maids of Argus (though with rage possess'd, 
Their imitated lowings fill'd the grove,) 
Yet shunn'd the guilt of thy prepost'rous love, 
Nor sought the youthful husband of the herd, 
Tho' lab'ring yokes on their own necks they fear'd, 
And felt, for budding horns on their smooth foreheads 

rear'd. 
Ah, wretched queen ! you range the pathless wood, 
While on a flow'ry bank he chews the cud, 
Or sleeps in shades, or through the forest roves, 
And roars with anguish for his absent loves. 
" Ye nymphs, with toils his forest-walk surround, 
And trace his wand'ring footsteps on the ground. 
But, ah ! perhaps my passion he disdains, 
And courts the mjlky mothers of the plains. 
We search in' ungrateful fugitive abroad, 
While they at home sustain his happy load." 
He sung the lover's fraud ; the longing maid, 
With golden fruit, like all the sex, betrayM ; 



46 PASTORAL VI. 

The sisters mourning Tor their brother's loss: 
Their bodies hid in barks, and furr'd with moss; 
How each a rising alder now appears, 
And o'er the Fo distills her gummy tears: 
Then sung, how Gallus, by a Muse's hand, 
Was led and welcom'd to the sacred strand ; 
The senate rising to salute their guest, 
And Linus thus their gratitude express'd : 
" Receive this present, by the IYjuses made. 
The pipe on which th' Ascnean pastor play'd ; 
With which of old he charm 'd the savage 1 rain, 
And call'd the mountain ashes to the plain. 
Sing thou, on this, thy i hccbus, and the wood 
Where once his fane of Parian marble stood : 
On this his ancient oracles rehearse: 
And with new numbers grace the god of verse." 
Why should I sing the double Scylla's fate ? 
The first by love transformed, the last by hate — - 
A beauteous maid above; but magic arts 
With barking dogs deform'd her nether parts: 
What vengeance on the passing fleet she pour'd, 
The master frighted, and the mates devo»«r'd. 
Then ravish'd Philomel the song exprest ; 
The crime reveal'd ; the sisters' cruel feast; 
And how in fields the lapwing Tereus reigns, 
The warbling nightingale in woods complains: 
While Procne makes on chimney-tops her moan, 
And hovers o'er the palace once her own. 
Whatever songs besides the Delphian god 
Had taught the laurels, and the Spartan flood, 
Silenus sung: the vales his voice rebound, 
And carry to the skies the sacred sound. 
And now the setting sun had warn'd the swain 
To call his counted cattle from the plain : 
Yet still th' unwearied sire pursues the tuneful strain. 
Till, unperceiv'd, the heavens with stars were hung, 
And sudden night surpris'd the yet unfinish'd song. 



PASTORAL VII. 

OR, 

MELIBCEUS. 



ARGUMENT. 

Meliboeus here gives us the relation of a sharp poetical contesl 
between Thyrsis and Corydon, at which he and JJaphnis were 
present; who both declared for Corydon. 



.OENEATH a holm, repair'd two jolly swains, 

(Their sheep and goats together graz'd the plains) 

Both young Arcadians, both alike inspired 

To sing, and answer as the song required. 

Daphuis, as umpire, took the middle seat; 

And fortune thither led my weary feet. 

For, while I fenc'd my myrtles from the cold, 

The father of my flock had wanderd from the fold. 

Of Daphnis I inquir'd : he smiling ^aid, 

M Dismiss your fear," and pointed where he fed: 

" Ana if no greater cares disturb your mind, 

Sit here with us in covert of the wind. 

Your lowing heifers, of their own accord, 

At vvat'ring time, will seek the neighbouring ford. 

Here wanton Mincius winds along tiie meads, 

And shades his happy banks with bending reeds. 

And see, from yon old oak that meets the skies, 

How black the clouds of swarming bees arise." 

What should I do ? nor was Alcippi nigh, 

Nor absent Phillis could my care supply, 

To house, and feed by hand my weaning lambs, 

And drain the strutting udders of their dams. 



48 PASTORAL VII. 

Great was the strife betwixt the singing swains: 
And i preferrM my pleasure to my gains. 
Alternate rhyme the ready champion chose: 
These Corydon rehears'd, and Thyrsis those. 



Ye muses, ever fair and ever young, 
Assist my numbers and inspire my song. 
With all my Codrus, O! inspire my breast; 
For Codrus, after Phoebus, sings the best. 
Or, if my wishes have presum'd too high, 
And stretch' d their bounds beyond mortality, 
The praise of artful numbers I resign, 
And hang my pipe upon the sacred pine. 

THYRSIS. 

Arcadian swains, your youthful poet crown 
With ivy-wreaths, though surly Codrus frown. 
Or, if he blast my muse with envious praise, 
Then fence my brows with amulets of bays. 
Lest his ill arts or his malicious tongue 
Should poison, or bewitch my growing song. 



These branches of a stag, this tusky boar 
(The first essay of arms untried before) 
Young Micon offers. Delia, to thy shrine. 
But, speed his hunting with thy pow'r divine; 
Thy statue then of Parian stone shall stand ; 
Thy legs in buskins with a purple band. 

THYRSIS. 

This bowl of milk, these cakes, (our country fare* 

For thee, Priapus, yearly we prepare, 

Because a little garden is thy care. 

But, if the falling lambs increase my fold, 

Thy marble statue siiail be turnM to gold. 



PASTORAL VII. 49 



Fair Galatea, with thy silver feet. 

O, whiter than the swan, and more than Hybla sweet ! 

Tall as a poplar, taper as the pole ! 

Come, charm thy shepherd, and restore my soul. 

Come, when my lated sheep at night return; 

And crown the silent hours, and stop the rosy morn. 

THYRSIS. 

May I become as abject in thy sight 

As sea-weed on the shore, and black as night; 

Rough as a burr; deform'd like him who chaws 

Sardinian herbage to contract his jaws; 

Such and so monstrous let thy swain appear, 

if one day's absence looks not like a year. 

Hence from the field, for shame ! the flock deserves 

No better feeding while the shepherd starves. 

CORYDON. 

Ye mossy springs, inviting easy sleep 

Ye trees, whose leafy shades those mossy fountains keep, 

Defend my flock! The summer heats are near, 

And blossoms on the swelling vines appear. 

THYRSIS. 

With heapy fires our cheerful hearth is orown'd, 
And firs for torches in the woods abound . 
We fear not more the winds and wintry cold, 
Than streams the banks, or wolves the bleating fold. 

CORYDON. 

Our woods, with juniper and chestnuts crown'd, 

With falling fruits and berries paint the ground ; 

And lavish nature laughs, and strows her stores arouruL 

But, if Alexis from our mountains fly, 

E'en running rivers leave their channels dry. 

THYRSIS. 

Parr.h'd are the plains, and frying is the field, 
Nor with'ring vines their juicy vintage yiekl 

VOL. I. 4 



50 PASTORAL VI F. 

But, if returning Phyllis bless the plain, 

The grass revives ; the woods are green again ; 

And Jove descends in showers of kindly rain. 

COltYDON. 

The poplar is by great Alcides worn : 
The brows of Phoebus his own bays adorn ; 
The branctnng vine the jolly Bacchus loves; 
The Cyprian queen delights in myrtle groves ; 
With hazel Phyllis crowns her flowing hair; 
And, while she loves that common wreath to wear, 
Nor bays, nor myrtle boughs, with hazel shall compare. 

THYRSIS. 

The towVing ash is fairest in the woods; 
In gardens,pines, and poplars by the floods ; 
But, if my Lucidas will ease my pains, 
And often visit our forsaken plains. 
To him the tow'ring ash shall yield in w r oods, 
In gardens, pines, and poplars by the floods. 

MEL1B0EUS. 

These rhymes I did to memory commend, 
When vanquishM Thyrsis did in vain contend; 
Since when 'tis Corydon among the swains, 
Young Corydon without a rival reigns. 



PASTORAL VIII. 

OR, 

PHARMACEUTR1A. 



ARGUMENT. 

This pastoral contains the songs of Damon and Alphesibfpus. 
The first of them bewails the loss of his mistress, and repines 
at the success of his rival Mopsus. The other repeats the 
charms of some enchantress, who endeavoured by her spells 
and magic to make Daphr.is in love with her. 



J HE mournful muse of two despairing swains, 
The love rejected and the lovers' pains; 
To which the savage lynxes list'ning stood ; 
The rivers stood in heaps, and stopp'd the running f!oo«« • 
The hungry nerd their needful food refuse - 
Of two despairing swains, I sing the mournful muse 

Great Pollio ! thou, for \\',.om thy Rome prepares 
The ready triumph of thy fmish'd wars, 
Whether Timavus or th' IDyrian coast, 
Whatever land or sea, thy presence boast ; 
Js there an hour in fate reserved for me, 
To sing thy deeds in numbers worthy thee? 
In numbers like to thine, could T rehearse 
Thy lofty tragic scenes, thy laboured verse, 
The world another Sophocles in thee, 
Another Homer should behold in me. 
Amidst thy laurels let this ivy twine: 
Thine was my earliest muse , my latest shall be thin* 

Scarce from the world the shades of night withdrew 
Scarce were the flocks refreshed with morning dew, 



58 PASTORAL VIII. 

When Damon, stretch'd beneath an olive shade, 
And wildly staring upwards, thus inveigh'd 
Against the conscious gods, and curs'd the maid: 
" Star of the morning, why dost thou delay ? 
Come, Lucifer, drive on the lagging day, 
While I my Lisa's perjur'd faith deplore — 
Witness, ye pow'rs by whom she falsely swore ! 
The gods, alas ! are witnesses in vain : 
Yet shall my dying breath to heaven complain. 
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Mienalian strain. 

" The pines of Maenalus, the vocal grove, 
Are ever full of verse and full of love : 
They hear the hinds, they hear their god complain, 
Who sufTer'd not the reeds to rise in vain. 
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Mienalian strain. 

"Mopsus triumphs; he weds the willing fair. 
When such is iNisa's choice, what lover can despair? 
Now griffons join with mares : another age 
Shall see the hound and hind their thirst assuage, 
Promiscuous at the spring. Prepare the lights 
O Mopsus! and perform the bridal rites. 
Scatter thy nuts among the scrambling boys: 
Thine is the night, and thine the nuptial joys. 
For thee the sun declines: O happy swain ! 
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet M<enalian strain. 

"O Nisa ! justly to thy choice condemned ! 
Whom hast thou taken, whom hast thou conlemnM ? 
For him, thou hast refus'd my browzing herd, 
Scorn'd my thick eye-brows, and my snaggy beard. 
Unhappy Damon sighs and sings in vain, 
While Nisa thinks no god regards a lover's pain. 
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Mtenalian strain. 

** 1 view'd thee first, (how fatal was the view !) 
And led thee where the ruddy wildings grew, 
High on the planted hedge, and wet with morning 
dew. 



PASTORAL VIII. 53 

Then scarce the bending branches I could win; 

The callow down began to clothe my chin. 

I saw, i perish'd, yet indulg'ri my pain. 

Bejrin with me, my flute, the sweet Mamalian strain 

" I know thee, love! in deserts thou wert bred, 
And at the dugs of savage tigers fed ; 
Alien of birth, usurper of the plains ! 
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Ma?nalian strains 

" Relentless love the cruel mother led, 
The blood of her unhappy babes to shed : 
Love lent the sword ; the mother struck the blow ; 
Inhuman she, but more inhuman thou . 
Alien of birth, usurper of the plains ! 
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Mienalian strains. 

" Old doting Nature, change thy course anew ; 
\nd let the trembling lamb the wolf pursue. 
Let oaks now glitter with Hesperian fruit, 
And purple daffodils from alder shoot: 
Fat amber let the tamarisk distil, 
And hooting owls contend with swans in skill; 
Hoarse Tityrus strive with Orpheus in the woods, 
And challenge fam'd Arion on the floods. 
Or, Oh, let Nature cease, and Chaos reign • 
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Meenaiian strain. 

" Let earth be sea, and let the whelming tide 
The lifeless limbs of luckless Damon hide : 
Farewell, ye secret woods and shady groves, 
Haunts of my youth, and conscious of my loves . 
From yon high cliff I plunge into the main : 
Take the last present of thy dying swain : 
And cease, my silent flute, the sweet M*nalian 
strain." 

Now take your turns, ye Muses, to rehearse 
His friend's complaints, and mighty magic v^rse. 
rt Bring running water: bind those altars round 
With fillets, and with vervain straw the ground : 



54 PASTORAL VIII. 

Make fat with frankincense the sacred fires, 
To reinflame my Daphnis with desires. 
'Tis done: we want but verse.— Restore, my charms, 
My lingering Daphnis to my longing arms. 
" Pale Phoebe, drawn by verse, from heav'n descends ; 
And Circe changed with charms Ulysses' friends. 
Verse breaks the ground, and penetrates the brake, 
And in the winding cavern splits the snake. 
Verse fires the frozen veins. — Restore, my charms, 
My ling'ring Daphnis to my longing arms. 
" Around his waxen image first I wind 
Three woollen fillets, of three colours join'd ; 
Thrice bind about his thrice devoted head, 
Which round the sacred altar thrice is led. 
Unequal numbers please the gods. — My charms, 
Restore iny Daphnis to my longing arms. 

" Knit with three knots the fillets: knit them strait, 
Then say, 4 These knots to love 1 consecrate. 1 
Haste, Amaryllis, haste ! — Restore, my charms, 
My lovely Daphnis to my longing arms. 

"As fire this figure hardens, made of clay, 
And this of wax with fire consume* away : 
Such let tiie soul of cruel Daphnis be — 
Hard to the rest of women, soft to me. 
Crumble the sacred mole of salt and corn : 
Next in the fire the bays with brimstone burn ; 
And, while it crackles in the sulphur, say, 
* Tis I for Daphnis burn ; thus Daphnis burn away ! 
This laurel is his fate.' — Restore, my charms, 
My lovely Daphnis to my longing arms. 

" As when the raging heifer, through the grove, 
Stung with desire, pursues her wand'ring love ; 
Faint at the last, she seeks the weedy pools, 
To quench her thirst, and on the rushes rolls, 
Careless of night, unmindful to return ; 
Such fruitless fires perfidious Daphnis burn. 



PASTORAL VIII. 55 

While I so scorn his love !— Restore, my charms, 
My lingering Daphnis to my longing arms. 

" These garments once were his, and left to me. 
The pledges of his promis'd loyalty, 
Which unchrneath my threshold 1 bestow. 
These pawns, O sacred earth : to me my Daphnis owe. 
As Uiese were his, so mine is he. — My charms, 
Restore their ling'ring lord to my deluded arms. 

"These pois'nous plants, for magic use design'd, 
(The noblest and the best of all the baneful kind) 
Old Moeris brought me from the Pontic strand, 
An \ cull'd the mischief of a bounteous land. 
Smsar'd with these powerful juices, on the plain, 
He howls, a wolf among the hungry train ; 
Ard oft the mighty necromancer boasts, 
With these, to call from tombs the stalking ghosts, 
A; ,d from the roots to tear the standing corn, 
\\ hich, whirl' d aloft, to distant fields is borne : 
Such is the strength of spells. Restore, my charms, 
My ling'ring Daphnis to my longing arms. 

" Bear out these ashes : cast them in the brook ; 
Cast backwards o'er your head ; nor turn your look: 
Since neither gods nor godlike verse can move, 
Break out, ye smother'd fires, and kindle smother'd love. 
Exert your utmost pow'r, my ling'ring charms; 
And force my Daphnis to my longing arms. 

" See, while my last endeavours I delay, 
The waking ashes rise, and round our altars play ! 
Run to the threshold, Amaryllis— hark! 
Our Hylax opens, and begins to bark. 
Good heav'n ! may lovers what they wish believe? 
Or dream their wishes, and those dreams deceive? 
No more ! my Daphnis comes ! no more, my charms! 
fie comes, he runs, he leaps, to my desiring arms." 



PASTORAL IX. 

OR, 

LYCIDAS AND MffiRiS. 



ARGUMENT. 

When Virgil, by the favour of Augustus, had recovered hrs pa- 
trimony near Mantua, and went in hope to take possession, he 
was in danger to be slain by Arius the centurion, to whom 
those lands were assigned by the emperor, in reward of his 
service against Brutus and Cassius. This pastoral therefore 
is filled with complaints of this hard usage ; and the persons 
introduced are the bailiff of Virgil, Mceris, and his fiiend 
Lycidas. 

LYCIDAS. 

ji O, Moeris ! whither on thy way so fast ? 
This leads to town. 

M(ER1S. 

O Lycidas ! at las . 
The time is come, I never thought to see, 
(Strange revolution for my farm and me ! 
When the grim captain in a surly tone 
Cries out, " Pack up, ye rascals, and be gone." 
Kick'd out, we set the best face on't we could ; 
And these two kids, t' appease his angry mood, 
I bear, — of which the Furies give him good ! 



Vour country friends were told another tale — 
That from the sloping mountain to the vale, 



PASTORAL IX. 57 

And dodder'd oak, and ail the banks along, 
Menalcas sav'd his fortune with a song. 



Such was the news, indeed ; but songs and rhymes 

Prevail as much in these hard iron times, 

As would a plump of trembling fowl, that rise 

Against an eagle sousing from the skies. 

And had not A-hoebus warn'd me, by the croak 

Of an old raven from a hollow oak, 

To shun debate, Menalcas had been slain, 

And Moerisnot survived him, to complain. 

LYC1DAS. 

Now heaven defend ! could barbarous rage induce 

The brutal son of Mars t' insult the sacred Muse ? 

Who then should sing the nymphs ? or who rehearse 

The waters gliding in a smoother verse? 

Of Amaryllis praise that heavenly lay, 

That shorten'd,as we went, our tedious way — 

" O Tityrus, tend my herd, and see them fed ; 

To morning pastures, ev'ning waters, led ; 

And 'ware the Libyan ridgil's butting head." 



Or what unfinished he to Varus read — 

" Thy name, O Varus, (if the kinder pow'rs 

Preserve our plains, and shield the Mantuan towers, 

Obnoxious by Cremona's neighbouring crime) 

The wings of swans and stronger-pin ion' d rhyme, 

'-mall raise aloft, and soaring bear above — 

Th' immortal gift of gratitude to Jove." 

LYC1DAS. 

Sing on, sing on : for I can ne'er be cloy'd. 
So may thy swarms the baleful yew avoid : 
So may thy cows their burden'd bags distend, 
And trees to goats their willing branches bend. 



58 TASTORAL IX. 

Mean as I am, yet have the Muses made 
Me tree, a member of the tuneful trade: 
At least the shepherds seem to like my lays; 
But I discern their flatt'ry from their praise: 
I nor to China's ears, nor Varus', dare aspire, 
But gabble, like a goose amidst the swan-like choir. 

MCER1S. 

*Tis what 1 have been conning in my mind ; 

Nor are thy verses of a vulgar kind. 

" Come, Galatea ! come ! the seas forsake ? 

What pleasures can the tides with their hoarse mur- 
murs make? 

See, on the shore inhabits purple spring ; 

Where nightingales their love-sick ditty sing: 

See, meads with purling streams, with flow'rs the 
ground, 

The grottos cool with shady poplars crown'd, 

And creeping vines on arbours weav'd around. 

Come then, and leave the waves' tumultuous roar; 

Let the wild surges vamiy beat the shore." 

LYCIDAS. 

Or that sweet song I heard with such delight; 
The same you sung alone one starry night. 
The tune I still retain, but not the words. 



" Why, Daphnis, dost thou search in old records, 
To know the seasons when the stars arise? 
See, Ciesar's lamp is lighted in the skies - 
The stai, whose rays the blushing grapes adorn, 
And swell the kindly rip'ning ears of corn. 
Under this influence graft the tender shoot; 
Tny children's children shall enjoy the fruit." 
The rest I have forgot, for cares and time 
Change all things, and untune my soul to rhym 
I could have once sung down a summer's sun: 
But now the chime of poetry is done : 



PASTORAL IX. 59 

My voice grows hoarse, I feel the notes decay, 
As if the wolves had seen me first to-day. 
But these, and more than I to mind can bring, 
Menalcas hast not yet forgot to sing. 

LYCIDA3. 

Thy faint excuses but inflame me more: 

And now the waves roll silent to the shore ; 

Hush'd winds the topmost branches scarcely bend, 

As if thy tuneful song they did attend: 

Already we have half our way overcome ; 

Far off I can discern Bianor's tomb. 

Here, where the lab'rer's hands have form'd a bow'r 

Of wreathing trees, in singing waste an hour. 

Rest here thy weary limbs; thy kids lay down: 

We've day before us yet to reach the town ; 

Or if, ere night, the gathering clouds we fear, 

A song will help the beating storm to bear. 

And that thou mayst not be too late abroad, 

Sing, and I'll ease thy shoulders of tiiy load. 

MCERIS. 

Cease to request me; let us mind our way. 
Another song requires another day. 
When good Menalcas comes, if he rejoice, 
Knd find a friend at court. I'll find a voice. 



PASTORAL X. 

ou, 
GALLUS 

ARGUMENT. 

G alius, a great patron of Virgil, and an excellent poet, was ver; 
deeply in love with one Cytheris, whom he calls Lycoris, am 
who had forsaken him for the company of a soldier. The po*^ 
therefore supposes his friend G alius retired, in his height ok 
melancholy, into the solitu les of Arcadia, (the celebrated 
scene of pastorals,) where he represents him in a very lan- 
guishing condition, with all the rural deities about him, pity- 
ing his hard usage, and condoling his misfortune. 

J HY sacred succour, Arethusa, bring, 
To crown my labour, ('tis the last I sing,) 
Which proud Lyccris may with pity view 
The muse is mournful, though the numbers few 
Refuse me not a verse, to grief and Gallus due. 
So may thy silver streams beneath the tide, 
Unmix' d with briny seas, securely glide. 
Sing then my Gallus, and his hopeless vows; 
Sing while my cattle crop the tender browze. 
The vocal grove shall answer to the sound, 
And echo, from the vales, the tuneful voice rebound 
What lawns or woods withheld you fiom his aid, 
Ye nymphs, when Gallus was to love betray'd, 
To love, unpitied by the cruel maid ? 
Not steepy Pindus could retard your course, 
Nor cleft Parnassus, nor the Aonian sources 



PASTORAL X. 61 

Nothing that owns the Muses, could suspend 

Your aid to Callus: — Callus is their friend. 

For him the lofty laurel stands in tears, 

And hung with humid pearls the lowly shrub appears. 

Mttnalian pines the godlike swain bemoan, 

When spread beneath a rock, he sigh'd alone ; 

And cold Lycreus wept from ev'ry dropping stone. 

The sheep surround their shepherd, as he lies* 

Blush not, sweet poet nor the name despise : 

Along the streams, his flock Adonis fed ; 

And yet the queen of beauty blest his bed. 

The swains and tardy neatherds came, and last 

Menalcas, wet with beating winter mast. 

Wond'ring they ask'd from whence arose thy flame. 

let more amaz'd, thy own Apollo came. 

Flush'd were his cheeks, and glowing were his eyes : 

" Is siie thy care ? is she thy care?" he cries, 

" Thy false Lycoris flies thy love and thee, 

And for thy rival tempts the raging sea, 

The forms of horrid war, and heav'n's inclemency.'* 

Silvanus came : his brows a country crown 

Of fennel, and of nodding lilies, drown. 

Great Fan arriv'd ; and we beheld him too, 

His cheeks and temples of vermilion hue. 

" Why, Callus, this immoderate grief?" he nnrd* 

" Think'st thou that love with tears is satisfied ? 

The meads are sooner drunk with morning dews, 

The bees with flow'ry shrubs, the goats with browse." 

Unmov'd, and with dejected eyes, he mourn' J : 

He paus'd, and then these broken words rcturn'd: 

•» 'Tis past; and pity gives me no relief: 

But you, Arcadian swains, shall sing my grief, 

And on your hills my last complaints renew : 

^lo sad a song is only w ? orthy you. 

How light would lie the turf upon my breast, 

If you my suff 'rings in your songs exprest ! 

Ah ! that your birth and bus'ness had been mine — 

To pen thb sheep, and press the swelling vine ! 



62 PASTORAL X. 

Had Phyllis or Amyntas caus'd my pain, 

Or any nymph or shepherd on the plain, 

(Tho' Phyllis brown, iho' black Amyntas were, 

Are violets not sweet, because not fair?) 

Beneath the sallows and the shady vine, 

My loves had mix'd their pliant limbs with mine: 

Phyllis with myrtle wreaths had crown'd my hair, 

And soft Amyntas sung away my care. 

Come, see what pleasures in our plains abound ; 

The woods, the fountains, and the flow'ry ground. 

As you are beauteous, were you half so true, 

Here could J live, and love, and die with only you. 

Now i to fighting fields am sent afar, 

And strive in winter camps with toils of war; 

While you, (alas, that 1 should find it so !) 

To shun my sight your native soil forego, 

And climb the frozen Alps, and ti\ad th' eternal 

snow. 
Ye frosts and snows, her tender body spare ! 
Tiiose are not limbs for icicles to tear. 
For me, the wilds and deserts are my choice ; 
The Muses once my care, my once harmonious voice. 
There will 1 sing, forsaken and alone : 
The rocks and hollow caves shall echo to my moan. 
The rind of ev'ry plant her name shall know ; 
Ami, as the rind extends, the love shall grow. 
Then on Arcadian mountains will I chase 
(Mix'd with the woodland nymphs) the savage race ; 
Nor cold shall hinder me, with horns and hounds 
To tread the thickets, or to leap the mounds. 
And now methinks o'er steepy rocks I go, 
And rush through sounding woods, and bend the Par- 
thian bow; 
As if with sports my suff 'rings 1 should ease, 
•Or by my pains* the god of love appease. 
My frenzy changes: 1 delight no more 
On mountain tops to chase the tusky boar: 



PASTORAL X. 63 

No game hut hopeless love my thoughts pursue: 

Once more, 3 T e nymphs, and songs, and sounding woods, 

Lov~ alters not for us his hard decrees, (adieu I 

Not though beneath the Thracian clime we freeze, 

Or Italy's indulgent heav'n forego. 

And in mid-winter tread Sithonian snow ; 

Or, when the barks of elms are scorcn'd, we keep 

On Meroe's burning plains the Libyan sheep. 

In hell, ana earth, and seas, and heav'n above, 

Love conquers all ; and we must yield to love." 

My Muses, here your sacred raptures end: 

The verse was what I ow'd my sufT'ring friend. 

This while I sung, my sorrows I deceiv'd, 

Andbendingosiers into baskets weav'd. 

The song, because inspir'd by you, shall shine; 

And Callus will approve, because 'tis mine — 

Gallus, for whom my holy flames renew, 

Each hour, and ev'ry moment rise in view ; 

As alders, in the spring, their boles extend, 

And heave so fiercely, that the bark they rend, 

Now let us rise : for hoarseness oft invades 

The singer's voice, who sings beneath the shades. 

From juniper unwholesome dews distil, 

That blast the sooty corn, the withering herbage kill. 

^way, my goats, away ! for you have brows'd your fill. 



GEORGIC. I. 



ARGUMENT. 

The poet, in the beginning - of this book, propounds the gene 
ral design of each Georgic: and, after a suiemn invocation 
of all the gods who are any way related to his subject, he 
addresses himself in particular to Augustus, whom be com- 
pliments with divinity ; and after strikes into bis business. 
He shows the different kinds of tillage proper to different 
soils, traces out the original of agriculture, gives a catalogue 
of the husbandman's tools, specifies the employment* p«cu- 
linr to each season, describes the changes of the wcfiutuT, 
with the signs in heaven and earth that forebode them ; in- 
stances many of the prodigies that happened near the ..-ait 
of Julius Caesar's death: and shut:: up all with a suppli* »*#* 
to the gods for the safety of Augustus, and the preservaU v i< 
Rome. 



W HAT makes a plenteous harvest, when to tun 
The fruitful soil, and when to sow the corn ; 
The care of sheep, of oxen, and of kine; 
And how to raise on elms the teeming vine ; 
The birth and genius of the frugal bee, 
f sing, Maecenas, and I sing to thee. 

Ye deities ! who fields and plains protect. 
Who rule the seasons, and the year direct, 
Bacchus and fost'ring Ceres, pow'rs divine, 
Who gave us corn for mast, for water, wine — 
Ye Fauns, propitious to the rural swains, 
Ye Nymphs that haunt the mountains and the plains, 
Join in my work, and to my numbers bring 
Your needful succour; for your gifts I sing 
And thou, whose trident struck the teeming earth, 
And made a passage for the courser's birth ; 



6 r J 



And thou, for whom the Cean shore sustains 

The milky herds, that, gaze the flow'ry plains; 

And thou, the shepherds' tutelary god, 

Leave, for a while, O Pan, thy lov'd abode ; 

And, if Arcadian fleeces be thy care, 

From fields and mountains to my song repair. 

Inventor, Pallas, of the fattening oil, 

Thou founder of the plough and ploughman's toil : 

AimI thou, whose hands the shroud-like cypress rear 

Come, all ye gods and goddesses, that wear 

The rural honours, and increase the year; 

You, who supply the ground with seeds of grain ; 

A nd you, who swell those seeds with kindlv 1a.11 , 

And chiefly thou, whose undetermin'd state 

Is yet the business of the gods, debate. 

Whether in after-times, to be declar'd, 

The patron of the world, and Rome's peculiar guard. 

Or o'er the fruits and seasons to preside, 

And the round circuit of the year to guide — 

Powerful of blessings, which thou strew'st around, 

And with thy goddess mother's myrtle crown'd. 

Or wilt thou, Caesar, choose the wat'ry reign 

To smoothe the surges, and correct the main ? 

Then mariners, in storms, to thee shall pray ; 

E'en utmost Thule shall thy pow'r obey ; 

And Neptune shall resign the fasces of the sea. 

The wat'ry virgins for thy bed shall strive, 

And Tethys all her waves in dowry give 

Or wilt thou bless our summers with thy rays, 

And, seated near the Balance, poise the days, 

Where, in the void of heav'n, a space is free, 

Betwixt the Scorpion and the Maid for thee . ? 

The Scorpion, ready to receive thy laws, 

Yields half liis region, and contracts his claws. 

Whatever part of heav'n thou shalt obtain, 

(For let not hell presume of such a reign ; 

Nor let so dire a thirst of empire move 

Thy mind, to leave thy kindred gods above ; 

VOL. I. 5 



66 GE0RG1C I. 

Though Greece admires Elysium's blest retreat, 

Tli rough Proserpine affects her silent seat, 

And, importun'd by Ceres to remove, 

Prefers the fields below to those above) 

Be thou propitious, Caesar! guide my course, 

And to my bold endeavours add thy force: 

Pity the poet's and the ploughman's cares ; 

Int'rest thy greatness in our mean affairs, 

And use thyself betimes to hear and grant our prayer. 

While yet the spring is young, while earth unbind. 
Her frozen bosom to the western winds; 
While mountain snows dissolve against the sun, 
And streams, yet new, from precipices run ; 
E'en in this early dawning of the year, 
Produce the plough, and yoke the sturdy steer, 
And goad him till he groans beneath his toil, 
Till the bright share is buried in the soil. 
That crop rewards the greedy peasant's pains, 
Which twice the sun, and twice the cold sustains, 
And bursts the crowded barns with more than pro 

mis'd gains. 
But, ere we stir the yet unbroken ground, 
The various course of seasons must be found; 
The weather and the setting of the winds, 
The culture suiting to the sev'ral kinds 
Of seeds and plants, and what will thrive and rise, 
And what the genius of the soil denies. 
Thisground with Bacchus, that with Ceres, suits: 
That other loads the trees with happy fruits: 
A fourth, with grass unbidden, decks the ground 
Thus Tmolus is with yellow saffron crown'd i 
India black ebon and white iv'ry bears; 
And soft Idume weeps her od'rous tears. 
Thus Pontus sends her beaver stones from far, 
And naked Spaniards temper steel for war: 
Kpirus, for th* Llean chariot, breeds 
(n\ n'«pes of palms) a race of running steeds 
This is in" GfLfifnai contract ; these the laws 



GEORGIC I. 67 

ImposM by Nature, and by Nature's cause, 

On sundry places, when Deucalion hurl'd 

His motner's entraiis on the desert world; 

Whence men, a hard laborious kind, were born. 

Then borrow part of winter for thy com , 

And early, with thy team, the glebe in furrows turn ; 

That, while the turf lies open and unbound, 

Succeeding suns may bake the mellow ground. 

But, if the soil be barren, only scar 

The surface^ and but lightly print the share, 

When cold Arcturus rises with the sun : 

Lest wicked weeds the corn should overrun 

In wat'ry soils; or lest the barren sand 

Should suck the moisture from the thirstv land. 

Botli these unhappy soils the swain forbears, 

And keeps a sabbath of alternaie years, 

That the spent earth may gather heart again, 

And, better'd by cessation, bear the gram. 

At least where vetches, pulse, and ta'res, have stood, 

And stalks of lupines grew (a stubborn wood,> 

Th' ensuing season, in return, may bear 

The bearded product of the golden year: 

For flax and oats will burn the tender held, 

And sleepy poppies harmful harvest yieid. 

But sweet vicissitudes of rest and toil 

Make easy labour and renew the soil, 

Yet sprinkle sordid ashes ad around, 

And load with fatt'ning dung the falluw ground 

Thus change of seeds for meagre soils is best ; 

And earth manur'd, not idle, though at rest. 

Long practice has a sure improvement found, 
With kindled fires to burn the barren groun<i, 
When the light stubble, to the flames resignM, 
Is driv'n along, and crackles in the wind. 
Whether from hence the hollow womb ol earth 
Is warm'd with secret strength for better birth ; 
Or, when the latent vice iscur'd by fire. 
Redundant humours through the pores expire , 



68 GEORGIC I. 

O) that the warmth distends the chinks, and makes 
New breathings, whence new nourishment she takes; 
Or that the heat the gaping ground constrains, 
New knits the surface, and new strings the veins : 
Lest soaking show'rs should pierce her secret seat, 
Or freezing Boreas chill her genial heat, 
Or scorching suns too violently beat. 
Nor is the profit small the peasant makes, 
Who smoothes with harrows, or who pounds with rakca 
The crumbling clods: nor Ceres from on higii 
Regards his labours with a grudging eye, 
Nor his, who ploughs across the furrow' d grounds, 
And on the back of earth inflicts new wounds ; 
For he, with frequent exercise, commands 
Tli' unwilling soil, and tames the stubborn lands. 
Ye swains, invoke the pow'rs who rule the sky 
For a moist summer and a winter dry: 
For winter drought rewards the peasant's pain, 
And broods indulgent on the buried grain. 
Hence Mysia boasts her harvests, and the top? 
Of Gargarus admired their happy crops. 
When first the soil receives the fruitful seed, 
Make no delay 9 but cover it with speed : 
So fenc'd from cold the pliant furrows break, 
Before the surly clod resists the rake ; 
And call the floods from high, to rush amain 
With pregnant streams, to swell the teeming grain 
Then, when the fiery sons too fiercely play, 
And shrivell'd herbs on with'ring stems decay, 
The wary ploughman, on the mountain's brow, 
Undams his wat'ry stores — huge torrents flow, 
And, rattling down the rocks, large moisture yield 
Temp'ring the thirsty fever of the field — 
And, lest the stem, too feeble for the freight, 
Should scarce sustain the head's unwieldy weight 
Sends in his feeding flocks betimes, t' invade 
The rising bulk of the luxuriant blade, 



GEORGIC I. 69 

Ere yet tb 1 aspiring offspring of the grain 

O'ertops the ridges of the furrow'd plain ; 

And drains the standing waters, when they yield 

Too large a bev'rage to the drunken field: 

But most in autumn, and the show'ry spring, 

When dubious months uncertain weather bring; 

When fountains open, when impetuous rain 

Swells hasty brooks, and pours upon the plain ; 

When earth with slime and mud is cover'd o'er 

Or hollow places spew their wat'rv store. 

Nor yet the ploughman, nor the lab'ring steer, 

Sustain alone the hazards of the year : 

But glutton geese, and the Strymonian crane, 

With foreign troop? invade the tender grain : 

And tow'ring weeds malignant shadows yield; 

And spreading succ-'ry chokes the rising field. 

The sire of godi and men, with hard decrees, 

Forbids our plenty to be bought with ease, 

And wills that mortal men, inurd to toil, 

Should exercise, with pains, the grudging soil; 

Himself invented first the shining share, 

And whetted human industry by care-, 

Himself did handicrafts and arts ordain, 

Nor suffer' d sloth to rust his active reign. 

Ere this, no peasant vex'd the peaceful ground, 

Which only turfs and greens for altars found : 

No fences parted fields, nor marks nor bounds 

Distinguish'd acres of litigious grounds: 

But all was common, and the fruitful earth 

Was free to give her unexacted birth. 

Jove added venom to the viper's brood, 

And sweird, with raging storms, the peaceful flood; 

Commissioned hungry wolves t' infest the fold, 

And shook from oaken leaves the liquid gold; 

Remov'd from human reach the cheerful fire, 

And from the rivers bade the vhie retire; 

That studious need might useful arts explore ; 

From furrowM fields to reap the foodful store, 



70 GEORGIC I. 

And force the veins of clashing flints t' expire 

The lurking seeds of their celestial fire. 

Then first on seas the hollow'd alder swam ; 

Then sailors quarter'd heav'n, and found a name 

For ev'ry fix'd and ev'ry wand'rmg star — 

The Pleiads, Hyads, and the Northern Car. 

Then toils for beasts, and lime for birds, were found, 

And deep-mouth'd dogs did forest-walks surround , 

And casting-nets were spread in shallow brooks, 

Drags in the deep, and baits were hung on hooks. 

Then saws were tooth'd, and sounding axes made; 

(For, wedges first did yielding wood invade) 

And various arts in order did succeed, 

( What cannot endless labour, urg'd by need ?) 

First Ce r es taught the ground with gram to sow, 
And arm'd with iron shares the crooked plough; 
When now Dodonian oaks no more supplied 
Their mast, and trees their forest- fruits denied. 
Soon was his labour doubled to the swain, 
And blasting mildews blacken' d all his grain : 
Though thistles chok'd the fields, and kilPd the corn, 
And an unthrifty crop of weeds was born : 
Then burs and brambles, an unbidden crew 
Of graceless guests th' unhappy field subdue; 
And oats unblest, and darnel domineers, 
And shoots its head above the shining ears ; 
So that, unless the land with daily care 
Is exercis'd, and, with an iron war 
Of rakes and harrows, the proud foes expell'd, 
And birds with clamours frighted from the field 
Unless the boughs are lopp'd that shade the plain, 
And heav'n invok'd with vows for fruitful rain — 
On others' crops you may with envy look, 
And shake for food the long-abandon'd oak. 
Nor must we pass untold what arms they wield, 
Who labour tillage and the furrow'd field ; 
Without whose aid the ground her corn denies, 
And nothing can be sown, and nothing rise — 



GEORGIC I. 71 

The crooked plough, the share, the tpw'riog height 

Of wagons and the cart's uuvvieidiy weight, 

Ttie sled, the tumbril, hurdles, and the Hail, 

The fan of Bacchus, with the flying sail — 

These all must be prepar'd if ploughmen hope 

The promis'd blessing of a bounteous crop. 

Young elms, with early force, in copses bow, 

Fit for the figure of the crooked plough. 

Of eight feet long a fasten' d beam prepare: 

On either side the head, produce an ear ; 

And sink a socket for the shining share. 

Of beech the plough-tail and the bending yoke, 

Or softer linden harden'd in the smoke. 

I could be long in precepts ; but I fear 

So mean a subject might offend your ear. 

Delve of convenient depth your threshing floor* 

With tempered clay, then fill and face it o'er ; 

And let the weighty roller run the round, 

To smooth the surface of th' unequal ground : 

Lest, crack'd with summer heats, the flooring flies, 

Or sinks, and through the crannies weeds arise : 

Per sundry foes the rural realm surround: 

The field-mouse builds her garner under ground 

For gathered grain : the blind laborious mole 

In winding mazes works her hidden hole: 

In hollow caverns vermin make abode — 

The hissing serpent, and the swelling toad: 

The corn devouring weasel here abides, 

And the wise ant her wintry store provides. 

Mark well the flowVing alnmnds in the wood : 
If od'rous blooms the bearing branches load, 
The glebe will answer to the sylvan reign : 
Great heats will follow, and large crops of grain. 
But, if a wood of leaves o'ershade the tree, 
Such and so barren will thy harvest be : 
In vain the hind shall vex the thrashing-floor; 
For empty chaff and straw will be thy store. 



72 georuic r. 

Sonic steep their seed, and some in caldrons boil, 
With vjg'rous nitre and with lees of oil, 
O'er gentle fires, th 1 exub'rant juice to drain, 
And swell the flatt'ring husks with fruitful grain. 
Vet, the success is not for years assurd, 
Though chosen is the seed, and fully cur'd, 
Unless the peasant, with his annual pain, 
Penews his choice, ana culls the largest grain. 
'"bus all below, whether by Nature's curse, 
Or Fate's decree, degenerate still to worse. 
So the boat's brawny crew the current stem. 
And, slow advancing, struggle with the stream: 
But, if they slack their hands, or cease to strive, 
Then down the flood with headlong haste they drive. 

Nor must the ploughman less observe the skies, 
When the Kids, Dragon, and Arcturus rise, 
Then sailors homeward bent, who cut their way 
Thro' Helle's stormy straits, and oyster- breeding sea. 
But, when Astrea's balance hung on high, 
Betwixt the nights and days divides the sky, 
Then yoke your oxen, sow your winter grain, 
Till cold December comes with driving rain. 
Linseed and fruitful poppy bury warm, 
In a dry season, and prevent the storm. 
Sow beans and clover in a rotten soil, 
And millet rising from your annual toil, 
When with his golden horns, in full career 
The bull beats down the barriers of the year 
And Argo and the Dog forsake the northern sphere. 

But, if your care to whi at alone extend 
Let Maia with her sisters iirst descend. 
And the bright Gnossian diadem downward bend, 
Before you trust in earth your future hope ; 
Or else expect a listless lazy crop. 
Some swains have sown before ; but most have found 
A husky harvest from the grudging ground. 
Vile vetches would you sow, or lentils lean, 
The growth of Egypt, or the kidney bean, 



GEOHGIC I. 73 

Begin when the slow Wagoner descends ; 
.Nor cease your sowing till midwinter ends. 
For this, through twelve bright signs Apollo guides 
The year, and earth in sev'rai climes divides. 
Five girdles bind the skies: the torrid zone 
Glows with the passing and repassing sun : 
Far on the right and left, th' extremes of heav'n 
To frosts and snows and bitter blasts are given : 
Betwixt the midst and these, the gods assign'd 
Two habitable seats for human kind, 
And 'cross their limits, cut a sloping way, 
Which the twelve signs in beauteous order sway. 
Two poles turn round the globe; one seen to rise 
O'er Scythian lulls, and one in Libyan skies ; 
The first sublime in heav'n, the last is whirl'd 
Below the regions of the nether world, 
Around our pole the spiiy Dragon glides, 
And like a winding stream, the Bears divides— 
The less and greater, who by Fate's decree 
Abhor to dive beneath the northern sea. 
There, a c they say, perpetual night is found 
fn silence brooding on th 1 unhappy ground : 
Or, when Aurora leaves our northern sphere, 
She lights the downward heav'n, and rises there ; 
And, when on us she breathes the living light, 
Red Vesper kindles there the tapers of the night. 
From hence uncertain seasons we may know : 
And when to reap the grain, and when to sow ; 
Or when to fell the furzes: when 'tis meet 
To spread the flying canvass for the fleet. 
Observe what stars arise or disappear; 
And the four quarters of the roiling year. 
But, when cold weather and continu'd rain 
The labYmg husband in his house restrain, 
Let him forecast his work with timely care: 
Which else is huddled, when the skies are fair: 
Then let him mark the sheep, or whet the shimno 
share. 



74 GEORGIC I. 

Or hollow trees for boats, or number o'er 
His sacks, or measure his increasing store, 
Or sharpen stakes, or head the forks, or twine 
The sallow twigs to tie the straggling vine ; 
Or wicker baskets weave, or air the corn, 
Or grinded grain betwixt two marbles turn. 
No laws, divine or human, can restrain, 
From necessary works the lab'iing swain. 
E'en holy days and feasts permission yield 
To float the meadows, or to fence the field, 
To fire the brambles, snare the birds, and steep 
In wholesome waterfalls the wooly sheep. 
And oft the drudging ass is driven, with toil. 
To neighb'ring towns with apples and with on ; 
Returning, late and laden, home with gain 
Of bartered pitch, and handmills for the grain. 

The lucky days, in each revolving moon, 
For labour choose: the fifth be sure to shun ; 
That gave the Furies and pale Pluto birth, 
And arm'd against the skies, the sons of earth. 
With mountains pil'd on mountains, thrice they strove 
To scale the steepy battlements of Jove ; 
And thrice his lightning and red thunder play'd, 
And their demolish'd work in ruin laid. 
The sev'nth is, next the tenth, the best to join 
Young oxen to the yoke, and plant the vine. 
Then, weavers, stretch your stays upon the weft. 
The ninth is good for travel, bad for theft. 
Some works in dead of night are better done, 
Or when the morning dew prevents the sun. 
Farch'd meads and stubble mow by Phoebe's lignt, 
Which both require the coolness of the night ; 
For, moisture then abounds, and pearly rains 
Descend in silence to refresh the plains. 
The wife and husband equally conspire 
To work by night, and rake the winter fire: 
He sharpens torches in the glimm'ring room ; 
She shoots the flying shuttle through the loom, 



GEORGiC T. 75 

Or boils in kettles must of wine, and skims, 

With leaves, the dregs that overflow the brims: 

And, till the watchful cock awakes the day, 

She sings to drive the tedious hours away. 

But, in warm weather, when the skies are clear, 

By daylight reap the product of the year; 

And in the sun your golden grain display, 

And thrash it out and winnow it by day. 

Plough naked, swain, and naked sow the land ; 

For lazy winter numbs the lab'ring hand. 

In genial winter, swains enjoy their store, 

Forget their hardships, and recruit for more. 

The farmer to full bowls invites his friends, 

And, what he got with pains, with pleasure spends. 

So sailors, when eecap'd from stormy seas, 

First crown their vessels, then indulge their ease. 

Yet that's the proper time to thrash the wood 

For mast of oak, your father's homely food ; 

To gather laurel-berries, and the spoil 

Of blood}^ myrtles, and to press your oil : 

For stalking cranes to set the guileful snare ; 

T' inclose the stags in toils, and hunt the hare; 

With Balearic slings, or Gnossian bow, 

To persecute from far the flying doe, 

Then, when the fleecy skies new clothe the wood, 

And cakes of rustling ice come rolling down the flood. 

Now sing we stormy stars, when autumn weighs 
The year, and adds to nights, and shortens clays, 
And suns declining shine with feeble rays: 
W 7 hat cares must then attend the toiling swain ; 
Or when the low'ring spring, with lavish rain, 
Beats down the slender stem and bearded grain, 
While yet the head is green, or, lightly swell'd 
With milky moisture, overlooks the field. 
E'en when the farmer, now secure of fear, 
Sends in the swains to spoil the fmish'd year, 
F'en while the reaper fills his greedy hands, 
And binds the golden sheaves in brittle bands, 



76 GEORGIC I. 

Oft have I seen a sudden storm arise, 

From all the warring winds that sweep the skies: 

The heavy harvest from the root, is torn, 

And whirl'd aloft the lighter stubble borne: 

With such a force the Hying rack is driv'n. 

And such a winter wears the face of heav'n. 

And oft whole sheets descend of si nicy rain, 

Suck'd by the spongy clouds from off the main: 

The lofty skies, at once come pouring down, 

The promis'd crop, and golden labours drown. 

The dikes are fillVl ; and, with a roaring sound, 

The rising rivers float the nether ground ; 

And rocks the bellowing voice of boiling seas rebound 

The father ot the gods his glory shrouds, 

Involv'd in tempests, and a night of clouds ; 

And, from the middle darkness flashing out, 

By fits he deals his fiery bolts about. 

Faith feels the motions of her angry god ; 

Her entrails tremble, and her mountains nod ; 

And flying beasts in forests seek abode : 

Deep horror seizes ev'ry human breast; 

Their pride is humbled, and their fear confessed, 

While he from high his rolling thunder throws, 

And fires the mountains with repeated blows: 

The rocks are from their old foundations rent; 

The winds redouble, and the rains augment: 

The waves on heaps are dash'd against the shore ; 

And now the woods, and now the billows, roar. 

In fear of this, observe the starry signs, 

Where Saturn houses, and where Hermes joins. 

But first to heav'n thy due devotions pay, 

And annual gifts on 'Ceres' altars lay. 

When winter's rage abates, when cheerful hours 

Awake the spring, the spring awakes the flow'rs, 

On the green turf thy careless limbs display, 

And celebrate the mighty Mother's day: 

For then the hills with pleasing shades are crown'd 

And sleeps are sweeter on the silken ground 



GEORGIC I. 77 

With milder beams the sun serenely shines: 
Fat are the lambs, and luscious are the wines. 
Let ev'ry swain adore her pow'r divine, 
And milk and honey mix with sparkling wine: 
Let all the choir of clowns attend the show, 
In long procession, shouting as they go ; 
Invoking her to bless their yearly stores, 
Invoking plenty to their crowded floors. 
Tims in the spring, and thus in summer's heat, 
Before the sickles touch the rip'nmg wheat, 
On Ceres call ■ and let the laboring hind 
With oaken wreaths his hollow temples bind : 
On Ceres let him call, and Ceres praise, 
With uncouth dances, and with country lays. 

And that by certain signs we may presage 
Of heats and rains, and wind's impetuous rage, 
The sov'reign of the heav'ns has set on high 
The moon, to mark the changes of the sky; 
When southern blasts should ease, and when the swain 
Should near their ibid his feeding flocks restrain. 
For, ere the rising winds begin to roar, 
The working seas advance to wash the shore : 
Soft whispers run along the leafy woods; 
And mountains whistle to the murm'ring floods. 
E'en then the doubtful billows scarce abstain 
From the toss'd vessel ou the troubled main ; 
When crying cormorants forsake the sea, 
And, stretching to the covert, wing their way ; 
When sportful coots run skimming o'er the strand 
When watchful herons leave their wat'ry stand, 
And, mounting upward with erected flight, 
Gain on the skies, and soar above the sight. 
And oft, before tempestuous winds arise, 
Tie seeming stars fall headlong from the skies, 
And, shooting through the darkness, gild the night 
W r ith sweeping glories, and long trails of light; 
And chaff with eddy-winds is whirl'd around, 
And dancing leaves are lifted from the ground ; 



78 GEORGIC I. 

And floating feathers on the waters play. 

But, when the winged thunder takes his way 

From the cold north, and east and west engage. 

And at their frontiers meet with equal rage, 

The clouds arecrush'd: a glut of gather'd rain 

The hollow ditches fills, and floats the plain ; 

And sailors furl their dropping sheets amain. 

Wet weather seldom hurts the most unwise ; 

So plain the signs, such prophets are the skies. 

The wary crane foresees it first, and sails 

Above the storm, and leaves the lowly vales: 

The cow looks up, and from afar caw find 

The change of heaven, and snuffs it in the wind : 

The swallow akims the river's wat'ry face : 

The frogs renew the croaks of their loquacious race 

The careful ant her secret cell forsakes, 

And drags her eggs along the narrow tracks: 

At either horn the rainbow drinks the flood : 

Huge flocks of rising rooks forsake their food. 

And, crying, seek the shelter of the wood. 

Besides, the sev'ral sorts of wat'ry fowls, 

That swim the seas or haunt the standing pools, 

The swans that sail along the silver flood, 

And dive with stretching necks to search their food 

Then lave their backs with sprinkling dews in vain, 

And stem the stream to meet the promis'd rain. 

The crow with clam'rous cries the show'r demands, 

And single stalks along the desert sands. 

The nightly virgin, while her wheel she plies 

Foresees the storm impending in the skies, 

When sparkling lamps their sputt'ring light advance, 

And in the sockets oily bubbles dance. 

Then, after showers, 'tis easy to descry 
Returning suns and a serener sky: 
The stars shine smarter; and the moon adorns, 
As with unborrow'd beams, her sharpened horns. 
The filmy gossamer now flits no more, 
Nor halcyons bask on the short sunny shore: 



GEORGIC I. 79 

Their litter is not toss'd by sows unclean ; 
But a blue droughty mist descends upon the plain \ 
And owls, that mark the setting sun, declare 
A. star-light evening, and a morning fair. 
Tow'ring aloft avenging Nisus flies, 
While, dar'd, below the guilty Scylla lies. 
Wherever frighted Scylla flies away, 
Swift Nisus follows, and pursues his prey 
Where injured Nisus takes his airy course, 
f hence trembling Scylla flies, and shuns his force, 
This punishment pursues th' unhappy maid, 
And thus the purple hair is dearly paid : 
Then, thrice the ravens rend the liquid air, 
And croaking notes proclaim the settled fair. 
Thsn round their airy palaces they fly, 
To greet the sun ; and, seiz'd with secret joy, 
When storms are overblown, with food repair 
To their forsaken nests, and callow care. 
Not that I think their breasts with heav'nly souls 
Inspir'd, as man, who destiny controls. 
Bui with the changeful temper of the skies, 
As rains condense, and sunshine rarities, 
So turn the species in their alter' d minds, 
Compos' d by calms and diseompos'd by winds 
Fiom hence proceeds the bird's harmonious voice : 
From hence the cows exult, and frisking lambs rejoice. 
Observe the daily circle of the sun, 
And the short year of each revolving moon : 
By them thou shalt foresee the following day ; 
Nor shall a starry night thy hopes betray. 
When first the moon appears, if then she shrouds 
Her silver crescent tipp'd with sable clouds, 
Conclude she bodes a tempest on the main, 
And brews for fields impetuous floods of rain. 
Or, if her face with fiery flushing glow, 
Expect the rattling winds aloft to blow. 
But, four nights old, (for that's the surest sign) 
.With sharpen'd horns if glorious then she shine, 



80 GEORGICT. 

Next day, nor only that, but all the moon, 

'Tiii her revolving race be wholly run, 

Are void of tempests, both by land and sea; 

And sailors in the port their promis'd vow shall pay. 

Above the rest, the sun who never lies, 

Foretells the change of weather in the skies: 

For, if he rise unwilling to his race, 

Clouds on his brow, and spots upon his face, 

Or if through mists he shoots his sullen beams, 

Frugal of light, in loose and straggling streams, 

Suspect a drizzling day, with southern rain, 

Fatal to fruits and flocks, and promis'd grain. 

Or, if Aurora, with half opened eyes, 

And a pale sickly cheek, salute the skies, 

How shall the vine, with tender leaves, defend 

Her teeming clusters, when the storms descend. 

When ridgy roofs and tiles can scarce avail 

To bar the ruin of the rattling hail i 

But more than all, the setting sun survey, 

When down the steep of heav'n he drives the day: 

For oft we find him finishing his race, 

With various colours erring on his face. 

if fiery red his glowing globe descends, 

High winds and furious tempests he portends: 

But, if his cheeks are swoln with livid blue, 

He bodes wet weather by his wat'ry hue : 

If dusky spots are varied on his brow, 

And streak'd with red, a troubled colour show, 

That sullen mixture shall at once declare 

Winds, ram, and storms, and elemental war. 

What desp'rate madman then would venture o'er 

The frith, or haul his cables from the shore ? 

But, if with purple rays he brings the light, 

And a pure heav'n reigns to quiet^night, 

No rising winds, or falling storms are nigh ; 

But northern breezes through the forests fly, 

And drive the rack, and purge the ruffled sky. 



GEORGIC I. <H 

Th 1 unerring sun by certain signs declares 

What the late ev n or early morn prepares. 

And when the south projects a stormy day, 

And when the clearing north will puff the clouds away. 

The sun reveals the secrets of the sky ; 
And who dares give the source of light the lie ? 
The change of empires often he declares, 
Fierce tumults, hidden treasons, open wars. 
He first the fate of Caesar did foietell, 
And pitied Rome, when Rome in Caesar fell; 
(n iron clouds concealed the public light; 
And impious mortals fearVi eternal night. 

Nor was the fact foretold by him alone : 
Nature herself stood forth and seconded the sun. 
Earth, air, and seas, with prodigies were signVl; 
And birds obscene, and howling dogs, divin'd. 
What rocks did .Etna's bellowing mouth expire 
Frim her torn entrails ! and what floods of fire ! 
What clanks were heard, in German skies afar, 
Of arms and armies, rushing to the war ! 
Dire earthquakes rent the solid Alps below, 
And from their summits shook th' eternal snow: 
Pale spectres in the close of night were seen ; 
And voices heard of more than mortal men, 
In silent groves: dumb sheep and oxen spoke ; 
And streams ran backward, and their beds forsook. 
The yawning earth disclos'd th* abyss of hell : 
The weeping statues did the wars foretell ; 
And holy sweat from brazen idols fell. 
Then, rising in his might, the king of floods 
Rusb'd through the forest, tore the lofty woods, 
And, roiling onward, with a sweepy sway, 
Bore houses, herds, and lab'ring hinds away, 
Blood sprang from wells; wolves howl'd in towns by 

night, * 

And boding victims did the priests affright. 
Such peals of thunder never pour'd from high, 
Nor fork}' light'nings flash 'd from such a sullen skv. 

VOL. 1. 6 



82 GEORGIC I. 

Red meteors ran across the etherial space; 
Stars disappear'd, and comets took their place. 
For this th' Emathian plains once more were strow'd 
With Roman bodies, and just heav'n thought good 
To fatten twice those fields with Roman blood. 
Then, after length of time, the lab'ring swains, 
Who turn the turfs of those 'unhappy plains, 
Shall rusty piles from the plough'd furrows take, 
And over empty helmets pass the rake — 
Amaz'd at antique titles on the stones, 
And mighty relics of gigantic bones. 

Ye home-born deities of mortal birth ! 
Thou father Romulus, and mother Earth, 
Goddess unmov'd ! whose guardian arms extend, 
O'er Tuscan Tiber's course, and Roman tow'rs defend ; 
With youthful Caesar your joint pow'rs engage, 
Nor hinder him to save the sinking age. 
O! let the blood, already spilt, atone 
For the past crimes of curst Laomedon ! 
Heav'n wants thee there : and long the gods, wjb know, 
Have grudg'd thee, Ciesar, to the world below, 
Where fraud and rapine right and wrong confound, 
Where impious arms from ev'ry part resound, 
And monstrous crimes in ev'ry shape are crown'd. 
The peaceful peasant to the wars is press'd ; 
The fields lie fallow in inglorious rest ; 
The plain no pasture to the flock affords; 
The crooked scythes are straighten'd into swords: 
And there Euphrates her soft offspring arms, 
And here the Rhine rebellows with alarms; 
The neighboring cities range on sev'ral sides, 
Perfidious Mars long plighted leagues divides, 
And o'er the wasted world in triumph rides. 
So four fierce coursers, starting to the race, 
Scour through the plain, and lengthen every pace ; 
Nor reins, nor curbs, nor threat'ning cries, they fear 
But force along the trembling charioteer. 



GEORGIC. II. 



ARGUMENT. 

The subject of the following; book is planting; in handlings! 
which argument, the poet shows all the different methods of 
raising trees, describes their variety, and gives rules for the 
management of each in particular. He then points o*it the 
soils in which the several plants thrive best, and thence takes 
occasion to run out into the praises of Italy ; after which, he 
gives some directions for discovering the nature of every soil, 
prescribes rules for dressing of vines, olives, &.C. and con- 
cludes the vieorgic with a panegyric on a country life. 



I HUS far of tillage, and of heav'nly signs-, 
Now sing, my Muse, the growth of gen'rous vines, 
The shady graves, the woodland progeny, 
And the slow product of Minerva's tree. 

Great father Bacchus! to my song repair; 
For clust'ring grapes are thy peculiar care : 
For thee large bunches load the bending vine ; 
And the last blessings of the year are thine. 
To thee his joys the jolly Autumn owes, 
When the fermenting juice the vat o'erflows. 
Come, strip with me, my god ! come drench all c'ea 
Thy limbs in must of wine, and drink atev'ry pore. 

Some trees their birth to bounteous nature owe ; 
For some, without the pains of planting, grow. 
With osiers thus the banks of brooks abound, 
Sprung from the wat'ry genius of the ground. 
From the same principles gray willows come, 
Herculean r "p)ar T and the tender broom. 



84 GEORGIC II. 

But some, from seeds inclos'd in earth arise ; 
For thus the mastfuh chestnut mates the skies. 
Hence rise the branching beech and vocai oak, 
Where Jove of old oracuiously spoke. 
Some from the root a rising wood disclose: 
Thus elms, and thus the savage cherry grows: 
Thus the green bay, that binds the poet's brows, 
Shoots, and is shelter' d by the mother's boughs, 

These ways of planting Nature did ordain, 
For trees and shrubs, and all the sylvan reign. 
Others there are, by late experience found, 
Some cut the shoots, and plant in furrow' d grouud ; 
Some cover rooted stalks in deeper mould ; 
Some, cloven-stakes ; and (wond'rous to behold !) 
Their sharpened ends in earth their looting place ; 
And the dry poles produce a living race; 
Some bow their vines, which buried in the plain ; 
Their tops in distant arches rise again. 
Others no root require : the lab'rer cuts 
Young slips, and in the soil securely puts. 
Ev'n stumps of olives, bar'd of leaves, and dead, 
Revive, and oft redeem their wither'd head. 
'Tis usual now an inmate graft to see 
With insolence invade a foreign tree: 
Thus pears and quinces iron* thecrahtree come; 
And thus the ready cornel bears the plum. 

Then let the learned gard'ner mark with care 
The kinds of stocks, and what those kinds will bear ; 
Explore the nature of each sev'ral tree, 
And, known, improve with artful industry ; 
And let no spot of idle earth be found ; 
But cultivate the genius of the ground : 
For open Ismarus will Bacchus please; 
Tabu rn us loves the shade of olive-trees. 

The virtues of the sev'ral soils I sing. — 
Maecenas, now thy needful succour bring! 
O thou, the better part of my renown, 
Inspire thy poet, and thy poem crown: 



GEORGIC II. 8S 

Embark with me, while I new tracts explore, 

Willi flying sails and breezes from the shore: 

Not that my song in such a scanty space, 

So large a subject fully can embrace — 

Not though I were supplied with iron lungs, 

A hundred mouths, iill'd wjthas manv tongues: 

But steer my vessel with a steady hand, 

And coast along the shore in sight of iand. 

Nor will 1 tire thy patience with a train 

Of preface, or what ancient poets feign. 

The trees which of themselves advance in air, 

Are barren kinds, but strongly built and fair, 

Because the vigour of the native earth 

Maintains the plant, and makes a manly birth. 

Yet these, receiving gratis of other kind, 

Or thence transplanted, change their savage mind, 

Their wildness lose, and, quitting nature's part, 

Obey the rules and discipline of art. 

The same do trees, that, sprung from barren roots, 

In open fields transplanted bear their fruits. 

For, where they grow, the uaf've energy, 

Turns all into the substance of the tree, 

Starves and destroys the fruit, is only made 

For brawny bulk, and for a barren shade. 

The plant that shoots from seed, a sullen tree, 

At leisure grows, for late posterity ; 

The gen'rous flavour lost, the fruits decay, 

And savage grapes are made the bird's ignoble prey. 

Much labour is required in trees, to tame 

Their wild disorder, and in ranks reclaim. 

Well must the ground be digg'd, and better dress'd, 

New soil to make, and meliorate the rest. 

Old stakes of olive trees in plants revive 

By the same method Paphian myrtles live: 

But nobler vines by propagation thrive. 

From roots hard hazels, and from cions rise, 

Tall ash, and taller oak that mates the skies ; 



86 OEORGIC II. 

Palm, poplai, fir, descending from the steep 
Of hills, to try the dangeis of the deep. 
The thin-leav'd avbute hazcl-graffs receives; 
And planes huge apples bear, that bore but leaves. 
Thus mastful beech the bristly chestnut bears, 
And the wild ash is while w ith blooming pears. 
And greedy swine from grafted elms are fed 
With falling acorns, that on oaks are bred. 

But various are the ways to change the state 
Of plants, to bud, to graff, V inoculate. 
For, where the tender rinds of trees disclose 
Their shooting gems, a swelling knot there grows* 
Just in that space a narrow slit we make; 
Then other buds from bearing trees we take ; 
Inserted thus, the wounded rind we close, 
In whose moist womb uY admitted infant grows. 
But, when the smoother bole from knots is free, 
We make a deep incision in the tree. 
And in the solid wood the slip inclose; 
The batt'ning bastard shoots a^ain and grows; 
And in short space the laden boughs arise, 
With happy fruit advancing to the skies. 
The mother plant admires the leaves unknown 
Of alien trees, and apples not her own. 

Of vegetable woods are various kinds; 
And the same species are of several minds. 
Lotes, willows, elms, have different forms allow M ; 
So fun'ral cypress, rising like a shroud. 
Fat olive trees of sundry sorts appear, 
Of sundry shapes: their unctions berries bear. 
Badii long olives, orchites round produce, 
And bitter pausia, pounded for the juice. 
AlcinouV orchard various apples bears: 
Unlike are burgamots and pounder pears. 
Nor our Italian vines produce the shape, 
Or taste, or flavour of the Lesbian grape. 
The Thasian vines in richer soils abound; 
The JViareotic grow in barren ground. 



GEOR^IC II, 87 

The Psythian grape we dry: Lagean juice 

Will stammering tongues and staggering feet produce. 

Rath ripe are some, and some of later kind, 

Of golden, some, and some of purple rind. 

How shall I praise the Rhoetian grape divine, 

Which yet contends not with Falernian wine? 

Th' Arminian many a consulship survives, 

And longer than the Lydian vintage lives, 

Or high Mianaeus, king of Chian growth : 

But, for large quantities and lasting, both, 

The less Argitis bears the prize away, 

The Rhodian, sacred to the solemn day, 

In second services is pour'd to Jove, 

And best accepted by the gods above. 

Nor must Bumastus his old honours lose, 

Jn length and largeness like the dugs of cows. 

1 pass the rest, whose ev'ry race, and name, 

And kinds, are less material to my theme; 

Which, who would learn, as soon may tell the sands , 

Driven by the western wind on Libyan lands-, 

Or number, when the blust'ring Euros roars, 

The billows beating on Ionian shores. 

Nor ev'ry plant on ev'ry soil will grow : 
The sallow loves the wat'ry ground and low; 
The marshes, alders: Nature seems V ordain 
The rocky cliff" for the wild ash's rergn: 
The baleful yew to northern blasts assigns, 
To shores the myrtles, and to mounts the vines. 

Regard the extremest cultivated coast, 
From hot Arabia to the Scythian frost: 
All sorts of trees their sev'ral countries know ; 
Black ebon only will in India grow, 
And od'rous frankincense on the Sabsean bough. 
Balm slowly trickles thro' the bleeding veins 
Of happy shrubs in Iduimean plains. 
The green Egyptian thorn, for med'cine good, 
With iEthiops' noary trees and woolly wood, 



88 GEORGIC II. 

Let others tell; and how the Seres spin 
Their fleecy forests in a slender twine ; 
Willi mighty trunks of trees on Indian shores, 
Whose height above the feather' d arrow soars, 
Shot from tiie toughest bow, and, by the brawn 
Of expert archers with vast vigour drawn. 
Sharp tasted citrons Median climes produce, 
(Bitter the rind, but gen'rous is the juice) 
A cordial fruit, a present antidote 
Against the direful stepdame's deadly draught, 
Who, mixing wicked weeds with words impure, 
Xhe fate of envied orphans would procure. 
Large is the plant, and like a laurel p-ows, 
And, did it not a difPrent scent disclose, 
A laurel were : the fragrant flow'r contemn 
The stormy wind, tenacious of their stem. 
With this, the Medes to lab'ring age bequeath 
New lungs, and cure the sourness of the breath. 
But neither Median woods, (a plenteous land) 
Fair Ganges, Hermus rolling golden sand, 
Nor Baclria, nor the richer Indian fields, 
Nor all the gummy stores Arabia yields, 
Nor any foreign earth oi" greater name, 
Can with sweet Italy contend in fame. 
No bulls, whose nostrils breathe a living flame, 
Have turn'd our turf; no teeth of serpents here 
Were sown, an armed host and iron crop to bear. 
But fruitful vines, and the fat olive's freight, 
And harvests heavy with their fruitful weight, 
Adorn our fields; and on the cheerful green 
The grazing flocks and lowing herds are seen. 
The warrior horse, here bred, is taught to train : 
There flows Clitumnus through the fiow'ry plain, 
Whose waves, for triumphs after prosp'rous war, 
The victim ox, and snowy sheep prepare. 
Perpetual spring our happy climate sees: 
Twice breed the cattle, and twice bear the trees ; 
And summer suns recede by slow degrees. 



GEORGIC II. 89 

Our land is from the rage of tigers freed. 
Nor nourishes the lion's angry seed ; 
Nor pois'nous aconite is here produc'd, 
Or grows unknown, or is, when known, refus'dj 
Nor in so vast a length our serpents glide, 
Or rais'd on such a spiry volume ride. 

Next add our cities of illustrious name, 
Their costly lahour, and stupendous frame ; 
Our forts on steepy hills, that far below 
See wanton streams in winding valleys flow ; 
Our twofold seas, that, washing either side, 
A rich recruit of foreign stores provide; 
Our spacious lakes ; thee, Larius, first ; and next 
Benacus, with tempestuous billows vex'd. 
Or shall I praise thy ports, or mention make 
Of the vast mound that binds the Lucrine lake ? 
Or the disdainful sea, that, shut from thence, 
Roars round the structure, and invades the fence. 
There, where secure the Julian waters glide, 
Or where Avernus' jaws admit the Tyrrhene tide? 
Our quarries deep in earth, were fam'd of old 
For veins of silver, and for ore of gold. 
Th 1 inhabitants themselves their country grace: 
Hence rose the Marsian and Sabellian race. 
Strong limb'd and stout, and to the wars inelin'd, 
And hard Ligurians, a laborious kind, 
And Volcians arrn'd with iron-headed darts. 
Besides — an offspring of undaunted hearts — 
The Decii, Marii, great Camillus, came 
From hence, and greater Sripio's double name, 
And mighty Caesar, whose victorious arms 
To farthest Asia carry fierce alarms, 
Avert unwarlike Indians from his Rome, 
Triumph abroad, secure our peace at home. 

Hail, sweet Saturnian soil! of fruitful grain 
Great parent, greater of illustrious men ! 
For thee my tuneful accents will I raise, 
And treat of arts disclosM in ancient days, 



9U GEORGIC II. 

Once more unlock for thee the sacred spring, 
And old Ascnran verse in Roman cities sing. 

The nature of the sev'ral soils now see 
Their strength, their colour, their fertility: 
And first for heath, and barren hilly ground, 
Where meagre clay and flinty stones abound, 
Where the poor soil all succour seems to want — 
Yet this suffices the Palladian plant. 
Undoubted signs of such a soil are found ; 
For here wild olive-shoots overspread the ground, 
And heaps of berries strew the fields around. 
But, where the soil, with fattening moisture till d, 
Is cloth'd with grass, and fruitful to be tuTd, 
Such as in cheerful vales we view from high, 
Which dripping rocks with rolling streams supply, 
And feed with ooze : where rising hillocks run 
In length, and open to the southern sun ; 
Where fern succeeds, ungrateful to the plough- 
That gentle ground to gen'rous grapes allow. 
Strong stocks of vines it will in time produce, 
And overflow the vats with friendly juice, 
Such as our priests in golden goblets pour 
To gods, the givers of the cheerful hour. 
Then when the bloated Tuscan blows his horn, 
And reeking entrails are in chargers borne. 

If herds or fleecy flocks be more thy care, 
Or goats that graze the field, and bum it bare, 
Then seek Tarentum's lawns, and furthest coast, 
Or such a field as hapless Mantua lost, 
Where silver swans sail down the wat'ry road, 
And graze the floating herbage of the flood. 
There crystal streams perpetual tenor keep, 
Nor food nor springs are wanting to thy sheep; 
For, what the day devours, the nightly dew 
Shall to the morn in pearly drops renew. 
Fat crumbling earth is fitter for the plough, 
Putrid and loose above, and black below ; 



GKORGTCII. 91 

For ploughing is an imitative toil, 

Resembling nature in an easy soil. 

No land for seed like this ; no fields aflfcrd 

So large an income to the village lord : 

No toiling teams from harvest-labour come 

So late at night, so heavy-laden home. 

The like of forest land is understood, 

From whence the surly ploughman grubs the wood, 

Which had for length of ages idle stood. 

Then birds forsake the ruins of their seat, 

And, flying from their nests, their callow young forget. 

The coarse lean gravel, on the mountain-sides, 

Scarce dewy bev r rage for the bees provides ; 

Nor chalk nor crumbling stones, the food of snakes, 

That work in hollow earth their winding tracks. 

The soil exhaling clouds of subtile dews, 

Imbibing moisture which with ease she spews, 

Which rusts not iron, and whose mould is clean, 

Well cloth'd with cheerful grass, and ever green, 

Is good for olives, and aspiring vines, 

Embracing husband-elms in am'rous twines; 

Is fit for feeding cattle, fit to sow, 

And equal to the pasture and the plough. 

Such is the soil of fat Campanian fields; 

Such large increase the land that joins Vesuvius yields , 

And such a country could Acerne boast, 

Till Clanius overfiow'd the unhappy coast. 

I teach thee next the differing soils to know, 
The light for vines, the heavier for the plough. 
Choose first a place for such a purpose fit: 
There dig the solid earth and sink a pit; 
<\ T ext fill the hole with its own earth again, 
And trample with thy feet and tread it in: 
Then, if it rise not to the former height 
Of superfine, conclude that soil is light, 
A proper ground for pasturage and vines. 
But, if the sullen earth, so press'd, repines 



32 GEORGIC II. 

Within its native mansion to retire, 
And stays without, a heap of heavy mire, 
'Tis good for arahle, a glebe that asks 
Tough teams of oxen, and laborious tasks. 

Salt earth and bitter are not fit to sow, 
Nor will be tain'd and mended by the plough. 
Sweet grapes degenerate there; and fruits, dec.in'd 
From their first Sav'rous taste, renounce their kind 
This truth by sure experiment is tried: 
For first an osier colander provide 
Of twigs thick wrought (such toiling peasants twine, 
When thro 1 straight passages they strain their wine:) 
!u this close vessel place that earth accurs'd, 
But fill'd brimful with wholesome water first; 
Then run it through: the drops will rope around, 
And, by the bitter taste, disclose the ground. 
The fatter earth by handling we may find, 
With ease distinguished from the meagre kind : 
Poor soil will crumble into dust ; the ricii 
Will to the fingers cleave like clammy pitch : 
Moist earth produces corn and grass, but both 
Too rank and too luxuriant in their growth. 
Let not my land so large a promise boast, 
Lest the rank ears in length of stem be lost. 
The! heavier earth is by her weight betray'd, 
The lighter in the poising hand is weiglf d. 
'Tis easy to distinguish by the sight 
The colour of the soil, and black from white. 
But the cold ground is difficult to know ; 
Yet this the plants, that prosper there, will show — 
Black ivy, pitch-trees, and the baleful yew. 
These rules consider'd well, with early care 
The vineyard destin'd for thy vines prepare: 
But, long before the planting, dig the ground, 
With furrows deep that cast a rising mound. 
The clods, expos'd to winter winds, will bake; 
For putrid earth will best the vineyards take ; 



GEORGIC II 93 

And hoary frosts, after \hz painful toil 
01 delving hinds, will rot the mellow soil. 

Some peasants, not t' omJt the r.«cest care, 
Of the same soil their nursery prepare, 
With that of their plantation ; lest the tree, 
Translated, should not with the soil agree. 
Beside, to plant it as it was, they mark 
The heav'n's four quarters on the tender bark, 
And to the north or south restore the side, 
Which at their birth did heat or cold abide: 
So strong is custom ; such effects can use 
In tender souls of pliant plants produce. 

Choose next a province for thy vineyard's reign, 
On hills above, or in the lowly plain. 
if fertile fields or valleys be thy choice. 
Plant thick: for bounteous Bacchus will rejoice 
In close plantations there : but if the vine 
On rising ground be plac'd, or hills supine, 
Extend thy loose battalions largely wide, 
Op'ning thy ranks and files on either side, 
But marshall'd all in order as they stand; 
And let no soldier straggle from his band. 
As legions in the field their front display, 
To try the fortune of some doubtful day, 
And move to meet their foes with sober pace, 
Strict to their figure, though in wider space, 
Before the battle joins, while from afar 
The field yet glitters with the pomp of war, 
And equal Mars, like an impartial lord, 
Leaves all to fortune, and the dint of sword — 
So let thy vines m intervals be set, 
But not their rural discipline forget: 
Indulge their width, and add a roomy spact^, 
That their extremest lines may scarce embrace.: 
Nor this alone to indulge a vain delight, 
And make a pleasing prospect for the sight ; 
But, for the ground itself, this only way, 
Can equal vigour to the plants convey, [p^ av - 

Winch, crowded, want the room, their branches to dis- 



94 UEORGIC II. 

How deep they must be planted, wouldst thou ki cvr ' 
In shallow furrows vines securely grow. 
Not so the rest of plants; for Jove's own tree, 
That holds the woods in awful sov'reignty, 
Requires a depth of lodging in the ground, 
And, next the lower skies, a bed profound : 
High as his topmost boughs to heav'n ascend, 
So low his roots to hell's dominions tend. 
Therefore, nor winds, nor winter's rage o'erthrows 
His bulky body; but unmov'd he grows: 
For length of ages lasts his happy reign ; 
And lives of mortal man contend in vain. 
Full in the midst of his own strength he stands, 
Stretching his brawny arms, and leafy hands ; 
His shade protects the plains; his head the hills 
commands. 
The hurtful hazel in thy vineyard shun ; 
Nor plant it to receive the setting sun ; 
Nor break the topmost branches from the tree; 
Nor prune, with blunted knife, the progeny. 
Root up wild olives from thy labour'd lands ; 
. For sparkling fire, from hind's unwary hands, 
Is often scatter'd o'er their unctuous rinds, 
And after spread abroad by raging winds: 
For first the smould'ring flame the trunk receives; 
Ascending thence, it crackles in the leaves ; 
At length victorious to the top aspires, 
Involving all the wood in smoky fires ; 
But most, when driven by winds, the flaming storm 
Of the ong fi.es destroys the beauteous form. 
In ashes then th' unhappy vineyard lies ; 
Nor will the blasted plants from ruin rise ; 
Nor will the wither' d stock be green again ; 
But the wild olive shoots, and shades th 5 ungrateful plan* 
Be not seduc'd with wisdom's empty sl.ows, 
To stir the peaceful ground when Boreas blows. 
When winter frosts constrain the field with cold, 
The fainty root can take no steady hold. 



GEORGIC II. 95 

But, when the golden spring reveals the year, 
And the white bird returns, whom serpents tear, 
That season deem the best lo plant thy vines: 
Next that, is wnen autumnal warmth declines, 
Ere heat is quite decay'd or cold begun, 
Or Capricorn admits ihe winter sun. 

The spring adorns the woods, renews the leaves : 
The womb of earth the genial seed receives : 
For then Almighty Jove descends, and pours 
Into his buxom bride his fruitful show'rs ; 
And, mixing his large limbs with hers, he feeds 
Her births with kindly juice, and fosters teeming seeds. 
Then joyous birds frequent the lonely grove. 
And beasts, by nature stung, renew their love. 
Then fields the blades of buried corn disclose ; 
And, while the balmy western spirit blows; 
Earth to the breath her bosom dares expose. 
With kindly moisture then the plants abound ; 
The grass securely springs above the ground ; 
The tender twig shoots upward to the skies, 
And on the faith of the new sun relies. 
The swerving vines on the tall elms prevail: 
Unhurt by southern show'rs or northern hail, 
They spread their gems, the genial warmth to share, 
And boldy trust their buds in open air. 
Jn this soft season (let me dare to sing) 
The world was hatch'd by heaven's imperial king- 
In prime of all the year, and holy-days of spring. 
Then did the new creation first appear; 
Nor other was the tenor of the year, 
When laughing heav'n did the great birth attend, 
And eastern winds their wintry breath suspend: 
Then sheep first saw the sun in open fields ; 
And savage beasts were sent to stock the wilds ; 
And golden stars flew up to light the skies : 
And man's relentless race from stony quarries rise. 
Nor could the tender new creation bear 
Th' excessive heats or coldness of the year, 



96 GEORG1C II. 

But, chilFd by winter, or by summer fir'd, 
The middle temper of the spring requir'd, 
When warmth and moisture did at once abound, 
And heaven's indulgence brooded on the ground. 

For what remains, in depth of earth secure 
Thy cover'd plants, and dung with hot manure; 
And shells and gravel in the ground enclose ; 
For through their hollow chinks the water flows, 
Which, thus imbib'd, returns in misty dews, 
And, steaming up, the rising plant renews. 
Some husbandmen, of late, have found the way, 
A hilly heap of stones above to lay, 
And press the plants with shards of potters clay. 
This lence against immoderate rain they found, 
Or, when the Dog-star cleaves the thirsty ground, 

Be mindful, when thou hast entom'd the shoot, 
With store of earth around to feed the root 5 
With iron teetli of rakes and prongs, to move 
The crusted earth, and loosen it above. 
Then exercise thy sturdy steers to plough 
Betwixt thy vines, and teach the feeble row 
To mount on reeds, and wands, and, upward led, 
On ashen poles to raise tkeir forky head. 
On these new crutches let them learn to walk, 
Till, swerving upwards with a stronger stalk, 
They brave the winds, and, clinging to their guide 
On tops of elms at length triumphant ride. 
But, in their tender nonage, while they spread 
Their springing leaves, and lift their infant head, 
And upward while they shoot in open air, 
Indulge their childhood, and the nurslings spare ; 
Nor exercise thy rage on new-born life : 
Nor let thy hand supply the pruning-knife, 
And crop luxuriant stragglers, nor be loth 
To strip the branches of their leafy growth. 
But, when the rooted vines, with steady hold, 
Can clasp their elms, then, husbandmen, be bold 



GEORGIC II HI 

To lop the disobedient boughs, that staid 

Beyond their ranks: let crooked steel invaae 

The lawless troops, which discipline disclaim. 

And their superfluous growth with rigour tame. 

Next, fenc'd with hedges and deep ditches round, 

Exclude th' encroaching cattle from thy ground 

While yet the tender gems but just appear, 

Unable to sustain th' uncertain year ; 

Whose leaves are not alone foul winter's prey, 

But oft by summer suns are scorch'd away. 

And worse than both, become th' unworthy browse 

Of buffaloes, salt goats, and hungry cows. 

For not December's frost that burns the boughs, 

Nor dog-days' parching heat that splits the rocks, 

Are half so harmful as the greedy flocks, 

Their venom'd bite, and scars indented on the stocks. 

For this, the malefactor goat was laid 

On Bacchus' altar, and his forfeit paid. 

At Athens thus old comedy began, 

When round the streets the reeling actors ran, 

In country villages, and crossing ways, 

Contending for the prizes of their plays ; 

And, glad with Bacchus, on the grassy soil, 

Leap'd o'er the skins of goats besmeared with oil. 

Thus Roman youth, deriv'd from ruin'd Troy, 

In rude Saturnian rhymes express their joy : 

With taunts, and iaughter loud, their audience please 

Deform'd with vizards, cut from barks of trees: 

In jolly hymns they praise the god of wine, 

Whose earthen images adorn the pine, 

And there are hung on high, in honour of the vine. 

A madness so devout the vineyard fills : 

In hollow valleys and on rising hills, 

On whate'er side he turns his honest face, 

And dances in the wind, those fields are in his grace. 

To Bacchus therefore let us tune our lays, 

And in our mother tongue resound his praise. 

VOL. I. 7 



98 cohgic n. 

Thin cakes in chargers, and a guilty goat, 

Dragg'd by the horns, be to his altars brought ; 

Whose offer' d entrails shall his crime reproach 

And drip their fatness from the hazel broach. 

To dress thy vines, new labour is requir'd ; 

Nor must the painful hrsbandman be tir'd: 

For thrice at least, in compass of the year, 

Thy vineyard must employ the sturdy steer 

To turn the glebe, besides thy daily pain 

To break the clods, and make the surface plain 

T' unload the branches, or the leaves to thin, 

That suck the vital moisture of the vine. 

Thus in a circle runs the peasant's pain, 

And the year rolls within itself again. 

E'en in the lowest months, when storms have shed 

From vines the hairy honours of their head. 

Not then the grudging hind his labour ends, 

But to the coming year his care extends. 

E'en then the naked vine he persecutes; 

His pruning knife at once reforms and cuts. 

Be first to dig the ground : be first to burn 

The oranches lopp'd ; and first the props return 

Into thy house that bore the burden"d vines ; 

But last to reap the vintage of thy wines 

Twice in the year luxuriant leaves o'ershade 

The encumber'd vine; rough brambles twice invade 

Hard labour both ! — Commend the large excess 

Of spacious vineyards ; cultivate the less 

Besides, in woods the shrubs of prickly thorn, 

Sallows and reeds on banks of rivers borne, 

Remain to cut — for vineyards useful found 

To stay thy vines, and fence thy fruitful ground. 

Nay, when thy tender trees at length are bound ; 

When peaceful vines from pruning-hooks are fret 

When husbands have survey'd the last degree, 

And utmost files of plants, and order 1 d ev'ry tree 

E'en when they sing at ease in full content 

insulting o'er the toils they underwent, 



GEORGIC II. 99 

Yet slill they find a future task remain, 
To turn the soil, and break the clods again : 
And, after all, their joys are insincere 
While falling rains on ripening grapes they fear. 
Quite opposite to these are olives found : 
No dressing they require, and dread no wound, 
Nor rakes nor harrows need ; but fix'd below, 
Rejoice in open air, and unconcern'dly grow. 
The soil itself due nourishment supplies: 
Plough but the furrows, and the fruits arise, 
Content with small endeavours, till they spring, 
Soft peace th<w figure, and sweet plenty bring: 
Then olives plant, and hymns to Pallas sing. 

Thus apple -trees, whose trunks are strong to bear 
Their spreading boughs, exert themselves in air, 
Want no supply, but stand secure alone. 
Not trusting foreign forces, but their own, 
Till with theruddyfreight the bending branches groan. 

Thus trees of nature, and each common bush, 
Uncultivated thrive, and with red berries blush. 
Wild shrubs are shorn for browse: the tow'ring height 
Of unctuous trees are torches for the nignt. 
And shall we doubt, (indulging easy sloth,) 
To sow, to set, and to reform their growth ? 
To leave the lofty plants — the lowly kind 
Are for the shepherd or the sheep design'd, 
E'en humble broom and osiers have their use, 
And shade for sheep, and food for flocks produce; 
Hedges for corn, and honey for the bees, 
Besides the pleasing prospect of the trees. 
How goodly looks Cytrous, ever green 
With boxen groves ! with what delight are seen 
Narycian woods of pitch, whose gloomy shade 
Seems for retreat of heav'nly Muses made ! 
Put much more pleasing are those fields to see, 
That need not ploughs, nor human industry 
E'en cold Caucasian rocks with trees are spread, 
A id wear green forests on their hilly head 



100 GEOR.GIC II. 

Though Deriding rro.n the blast of eastern storms, 
Tho' slient their leaves, and shatter' d are their arms, 
Yet heav'n their various plants for use designs — 
For houses, cedars — and, for shipping, pin°ss — 
Cypress provides for spokes and wheels of wains, 
And all for keels of ships, that scour the wat'rv plains. 
Willows in twigs are fruitful, elms in leaves , 
The war, from stubborn myrtle, shafts receives - 
From cornels, javelins ; and the tougher yew 
Receives the bending figure of a bow. 
Nor box, nor limes without their use are made, 
Smooth grain'd, and proper for the turner's trade : 
Which curious hands may carve, and steel with ease 

invade. 
Light alder stems the Po's impetuous tide, 
And bees in hollow oaks their honey hide. 
Now balance with these gifts, the fumy joys 
Of wine, attended with eternal noise. 
Wine urg'd to lawless lust the' Centaurs' train: 
Thro' wine they quarrei'd, and thro' wine were slam. 

O happy, if he knew his happy state, 
The swain, who, free from bus'ness and debate, 
Receives his easy food from Nature's hand, 
And just returns of cultivated land ! 
No palace, with a lofty gate, he wants, 
T' admit the tides of early visitants, 
With eager eyes devouring as they pass, 
The breathing figures of Corinthian brass. 
No statues threaten, from high pedestals ; 
No Persian arras hides his homely wails, 
W r ith antic vests, which, through their shady fold, 
Betray the streaks of ill-dissembled gold : 
He boasts no wool, whose native white is dy'd 
With purple poison of Assyrian pride : 
No costly drugs of Araby defile, 
With foreign scents, the sweetness of his oil: 
But easy quiet, a secure retreat, 
A harmless life that knows not how to cheat 



GEORGIC II. 101 

With horne-brerl plenty, the rich owner bless ; 

And rural pleasures crown Ins happiness. 

Unvex'd with quarrels, undisturb d with noise, 

The country king his peaceful realm enjoys — 

Cool grots, and living lakes, the Uowtv pride 

Of meads, and streams that through the valley glide 

And shady groves that easy sleep invite, 

And, after toilsome days, a soft repose at night. 

Wild beasts of nature in his woods abound : 

And youth, of labour patient, plough the ground, 

Inur'd to hardship, and to homely fare. 

Nor venerable age is wanting there, 

In great examples to the youthful train; 

Nor are the gods ador'd with rites piofane. 

Trom hence Astryea took her flight ; and here 

The prints of her departing steps appear. 

Ye sacred Muses ! with whose beauty fir'd, 
My soul is ravish'd, and ray brain inspir'd — 
Whose priest I am, whose holy fillets wear — 
Would you your poet's first petition hear; 
Give me the ways of wand'ring stars to know, 
The depths of heav'n above, and earth below : 
Teach me the various labours of the moon. 
And whence proceed th' eclipses of the sun ; 
Why flowing tides prevail upon the main, 
And' in what dark recess they shrink again ; 
What shakes the solid earth ; what cause delays 
The summer nights, and shortens winter days. 
But, if my heavy blood restrain the flight 
Of my free soul, aspiring to the height 
Of nature, and unclouded fields of light — 
My next desire is, void of care and strife, 
To lead a soft, secure, inglorious life — 
A country cottage near a crystal flood, 
A winding valley, and a lofty wood. 
Some god conduct me to the sacred shades, 
Where Bacchanals are sung by Spartan maids, 



102 GEORGIC II. 

Or lift me high to Haemus' hilly crown, 
Or in the plains of Tempe lay me down, 
Or lead me to some solitary place, 
And cover my retreat from human race. 

Happy the man, who, studying Nature's laws, 
Through known effects can trace the secret cause— 
His mind, possessing in a quiet state, 
Fearless of Fortune, and resign'd to Fate ! 
And happy too is he, who decks the bow'rs 
Of Sylvans, and adores the rural pow'rs — 
V\ hose mind, unmov'd, the bribes of courts can see f 
Their glittering baits, and purple slavery — 
ISor hopes the people's praise, nor fears their frown, 
Nor, when contending kindred tear the crown, 
Will set up one, or pull another down. 

Without concern he hears, but hears from far, 
Of tumults, and descents, and distant war: 
Nor with a superstitious fear is aw'd, 
For what befalls at home, or what abroad. 
Nor envies lie the rich their heapy store, 
Nor his own peace disturbs with pity for the poor. 
He feeds on fruits, which, of their own accord, 
The willing ground and laden trees afford, 
From his lov'd home no lucre him can draw; 
The senate's mad decrees he never saw ; 
Nor heard, a* bawling bars, corrupted law. 
Some to the seas, and some to camps, resort, 
And some with impudence invade the court. 
In foreign countries, others seek senown ; 
With wars and taxes, others waste their own, 
And houses burn, and household gods deface, 
To drink in bowls which glittering gems enchase, 
To loll on couches, rich with citron steds, 
And lay their guilty limbs on Tyrian beds. 
This wretch in earth entombs his golden ore, 
Hov'ringand brooding on his buried store. 
Some patriot fools to pop'Iar praise aspire 
Of public speeches, which worse fools admire, 



GEOKGICII. 10 S 

While, from both benches, with redoubled sounds, 
Th 1 applause of lords and commoners abounds. 
Some, through ambition, or through thirst of gold, 
Have slain their brothers, or their country sold, 
And, leaving their sweet homes, in exile run 
To lands that lie beneath another sun. 

The peasant, innocent of all these ills, 
With crooked ploughs the ferule fallow tills, 
And the round year with daily labour fills : 
And hence the country markets are supplied : 
Enough remains for household charge beside, 
His wife and tender children to sustain, 
And gratefully to feed his dumb deserving tram. 
Nor cease his labours till the yellow field 
A full return of bearded harvest yield — 
A crop so plenteous, as the land to load, 
Overcome the crowded barns, and lodge on ricks abroad. 
Thus ev'ry several season is employ'd, 
Some spent in toil, and some in ease enjoy'd. 
The 3'eaning ewes prevent the springing year: 
The laded boughs their fruits in autumn bear. 
'Tis then the vme her liquid harvest yields, 
Bak'd in tne sunshine of ascending fields. 
The winter comes ; and then the falling mast 
For greedy swine provides a full repast: 
Then olives, ground in mills, their fatness boast, 
And winter fruits are mellow'd by the frost. 
His cares are eas'd with intervals of bliss ; 
His little children climbing for a kiss, 
Welcome their father's late return at night 
His faithful bed is crown'd with chaste delight 
His kine with swelling udders read}'- stand, 
And, lowing for the pail, invite the milker's hand. 
His wanton kids, with budding horns piepar'd 
Fight harmless battles in his homeiy yard: 
Himself, in rustic pomp, on holy-days. 
To rural pow'rs a just oolaiion pays, 
And on the ereen hj« naieJess limbs displays. 



104 GfcORGIC II. 

The hearth is in the midst: the herdsmen round 

The cheerful fire, provoke his health in goblets crown'ct 

He calls on Bacchus, and propounds the prize : 

The groom his fellow groom at buts defies, 

And bends his bow, and levels with his eyes. 

Or, stript for wrestling, smears his limbs with oil, 

And watches, with a trip, his foe to foil. 

Such was the life the frugal Sabines led : 

So Remus and his brother god were bred, 

From whom th 1 austere Etrurian virtue rose ; 

And this rude life our homely fathers chose. 

Old Rome from such a race deriv'd her birth, 

(The seat of empire, and the conquer'd earth) 

Whicn now on sev'n high hills triumphant reigns, 

And in that compass all the world contains. 

Ere Saturn's rebel son usurp'd the skies, 

When beasts were only slain for sacrifice, 

While peaceful Crete enjoy'd her ancient lord, 

Ere sounding hammers forg'd th' inhuman sword, 

Ere hollow drums were beat, before the breath 

Of brazen trumpets rung the peals of death. 

The good old god his hunger did assuage 

With roots and herbs, and gave the golden age. 

But, over-labour' d with so long a course, 

'Tis time to set at ease the smoking horse. 



GEORGIC. Ill 



ARGUMENT. 

This book begins with the invocation of some rural deities, and 
a compliment to Augustus : after which Virg-il directs himself 
to Maecenas, and enters on his subject. He lays down rules 
for the breeding- and management of horses, oxen, sheep, goats, 
and dogs ; and interweaves several pleasant descriptions of 
a chariot-race, of the battle of the bulls, of the force of love, 
and of the Scythian winter. In the latter part of the book, 
he relates the diseases incident to cattle ; and ends with the 
description of a fatal murrain that formerly raged among the 
Alps. 



1 HY fields, propitious Pales, I rehearse; 
' And sing thy pastures in no vulgar verse, 
Amphrysian shepherd! the Lycsean woods, 
Arcadia's flow'ry plains, and pleasing floods. 

All other themes, that careless minds invite, 
Are worn with use, unworthy me to write. 
Bush-is' altars, and the dire decrees 
Of hard Eurystheus ev'ry reader sees: 
Hylas the boy, Latona's erring isle, 
And Pelops' iv'ry shoulder, and his toil 
For fair Hippodame, with all the rest 
Of Grecian tales, by poets are express'd. 
New ways I must attempt, my grov'ling name 
To raise aloft, and wing my flight to fame. 

I, first of Romans, shall in triumph come 
From conquer'd Greece, and bring her trophies home, 
With foreign spoils adorn rny native place, 
And with ldume's palms mv Mantua grace. 



106 GfcORGIC III 

Of Parian stone a temple will I raise, 

Where the slow Mincius through the valley strays, 

Where cooling streams invite the flocks to drink, 

And reeds defend the winding water's brink. 

Full in the midst shall mighty Caesar stand, 

Hold the chief honours, and the dome command. 

Then I, conspicuous in my Tyrian gown, 

(Submitting to his godhead my renown) 

A hundred coursers from the goal will drive: 

The rival chariots in the race shall strive. 

All Greece shall flock from far, my games to see : 

Tiie whorlbat, and the rapid race, shall be 

Reserv'd for Caesar, and ordain'd by me. 

Myself, with olive crown'd,the gifts will bear. 

E'en now methinks the public shouts i hear , 

The passing pageants, and the pomps appear. 

I to the temple will conduct the crew, 

The sacrifice, and sacrificers view, 

From thence return, attended with my train, 

Where the proud theatres disclose the scene, 

Which interwoven Britons seem to raise, 

.And show the triumph which their shame displays. 

High o'er the gate, in elephant and gold, 

The crowd shall Caesar's Indian war behold : 

The Nile shall flow beneath ; and, on the side, 

His shatter'd ships on brazen pillars ride. 

Next him Niphates, with inverted urn, 

And dropping sedge, shall his Armenia mourn ; 

And Asian cities in our triumph borne. 

W^ith backward bows the Parthians shall be there, 

And, spurring from the fight, confess their fear. 

A double wreath shall crown our Ccesar's brows — 

Two difY'rent trophies, from two diff 'rent foes. 

Europe with Afric in his fame sh::ll join ; 

But neither shore his conquests shall confine. 

The Parian marble there shall seem to move 

In breathing statues, not un^iithv Jove, 



GEORG1C III. 107 

Resembling heroes, whose ethereal root 

Is Jove himself, and Ciesar is the fruit. 

Tros and his race the sculptor shall employ ; 

And he — the god who built the wails of Troy. 

Envy herself at last, grown pale and dumb, 

(By C;esar combatted and overcome) 

Shall give her hands, and fear the curling snakes 

Of lashing Furies, and the burning lakes; 

The pains of famish'd Tantalus shall feel, 

And Sisyphusthat labours up the hill 

The rolling rock in vain ; and curst fxion's wheel. 
Meantime we must pursue the sylvan lands, 

(Th' abode of nymphs) untouchM by former hands 

For such, Maecenas are thy hard commands. 

Without thee, nothing lofty can 1 sing. 

Come then, and with thyself, thy genius bring, 

With which inspir'd, I brook no dull delay: 

Cithaeron loudly calls me to my way ; 

Thy hounds, Tayg'tus, open, and pursue their prey. 

High Epidaurus urges on ray speed, 

Fam'd for his hills, and for his horses' breed : 

From hills and dales the cheerful cries rebound ; 

For Echo hunts along, and propagates the sound. 
A time will come, when my maturer muse, 

In Ccesai's wars, a nobler theme shall choose, 

And through more ages bear my sovereign's praise, 

Than have from Tithon past to Caesar's days. 
The gen'rous youth, who studious of the prize, 

The race of running coursers multiplies, 

Or to the plough the sturdy bullock breeds [ceeds. 

May know that from the d;im the worth of each pro- 
file mother-cow must wear a lowering look, 
Sour-headed, strongly neck'd, to bear the yoke. 
Her double dew-lap from her chin descends, 
And at her knees the pond'rous burden ends. 
Long are her sides and large 5 her limbs are great, 
Rough are her ears, and broad her horny feet. 



108 GEORGIC III. 

Her colour shining black, but flecked with white 

She tosses from the yoke ; provokes the fight : 

She rises in her gait, is free from iears, 

And in her face a bull's resemblance bears: 

Her ample forehead with a star is crown'd ; 

And with her length of tail she sweeps the ground. 

The bulPs insult at four she may sustain ; 

But, after ten, from nuptial rites refrain. 

Six seasons use, but then release the cow, 

Unfit for love, and for the lab'ring plough. 

Now while their youth is filPd with kindly fire, 
Submit thy females to the lusty sire: 
Watch the quick motions of the frisking tail ; 
Then serve their fury with the rushing male, 
Indulging pleasure lest the breed should fail. 

In youth alone, unhappy mortals live ; 
But, ah ! the mighty bliss is fugitive: 
Discolour'd sickness, anxious labour, come, 
And age, and death's inexorable doom. 

Yearly thy herds in vigour will impair 
Recruit and mend them with thy yearly care: 
Still propagate ; for still they fall away 
'Tis prudence to prevent th' entire decay. 

Like diligence requires the courser's race, 
In early choice, and for a longer space. 
The colt, that for a stallion is design'd, 
By sure presages shows his gen'rous kind : 
Of able body, sound of limb and wind. 
Upright he walks, on pasterns firm and straight ; 
His motions easy ; prancing in his gait ; 
The first to lead the way, to tempt the flood 
To pass the bridge unknown, nor fear the trembling 

wood; 
Dauntless at empty noises; lofty neck'd ; 
Sharp-headed, barrel-bellied, broadly back'd ; 
Brawny his chest, and deep ; his colour gray ; 
For beauty, dappled, or the brightest bay : 
3aint white and dun will scarce the rearing pay. 



GEORG1C III. i09 

The firry courser when he hears from far 
The sprightly trumpets, and the shouts of war, 
Pricks up his ears ; and, trembling with delight, 
Shifts place, and paws, and hopes the promis'd fight. 
On his right shoulder his thick mane reclin'd, 
Ruffles at speed, and dances in the wind. 
His horny hoofs are jetty black and round ; 
His chine is double •, starting with a bound 
He turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground. 
Fire from his eyes, clouds from his nostrils How: 
He bears his rider headlong on the foe. 

Such was the steed in Grecian poets fam'd, 
Proud Cyllarus, by Spartan Pollux tam'o: 
Such coursers bore to tight the god of Thrace ; 
And such, Acnilles, was thy warlike race. 
In such a shape, grim Saturn did restrain 
His heav'nly limbs, and flow'd with such a mane, 
When, half surpris'd, and fearing to be seen, 
The lecher gallop'd from his jealous queen, 
Ran up the ridges of the rocks amain, 
And with shrill neighings hiiM the neighboring plain. 

But, worn with years, when dire diseases come, 
Then hide his not ignoble age at home, 
In peace t' enjoy his former palms and pains ; 
And gratefully be kind to his remains. 
For, when his blood no youthful spirits move, 
He languishes and labours in his love ; 
And, when the sprightly seed should swiftly come. 
Dribbling he drudges, and defrauds the womb. 
In vain he burns, like hasty stubble fires, 
And in himself, his former self requires. 
His age and courage weigh ; nor those alone; 
But note his father's virtues and his own: 
Observe, if he disdains to yield the prize, 
Of loss impatient, proud of victories. 

Hast thou beheld, when from the goal the-/ start, 
The youthful charioteers with heaving heart 



110 GEORGIC III 

Rush to the race; and panting, scarcelv hear 
Til 1 extremes of fev'rish hope and chilling Tear ; 
Stoop to the leins, and lash with all their force? 
The flying chariot kindles in the course; 
And now alow, and now aloft they fly, 
As borne through air, ano seem to touch the sky. 
No stop, no slay: but clouds of sand arise, 
Spurn'd, and cast backward on the followers' eyes. 
The hindmost blows the foam upon the first: 
Such is the love of praise, an honourable thirst. 

Bcld Eriethonius was the first who join'd 
Four horses for the rapid race design'd, 
And o'er the dusty wheels presiding sate: 
The Lapithae, to chariots, add the state 
Of bits and bridles ; taught the steed to bound, 
To run the ring, and trace the mazy round ; 
To stop, to fly, the rules of war to know ; 
T' obey the rider, and to dare the foe. 

To choose a youthful steed with courage fir'd, 
To breed him, break him, back him, are requir'd 
Expenenc'd masters; and in sundry ways, 
Their labours equal, and alike their praise. 
But, once again, the batter'd horse beware: 
The weak old stallion will deceive thy care, 
Though famous in his youth for force and speed, 
Or was of Argos or Epirian breed, 
Or did from Neptune's race, or from himself pro- 
ceed. 

These things premis'd, when now the nuptial time 
Approaches for the stately steed to climb, 
With food enable him to make his court ; 
Distend his chine, and pamper him for sport: 
Feed him with herbs, whatever thou canst find, 
Of gen'rous warmth, and of salacious kind : 
Then water him, and (drinking what he can) 
Encourage him to thirst again, with bran. 
Ins-tructed thus, produce him to the fair, 
And join in wedlock to the longing mare. 



GEORGIC III. Ill 

For, if the sire be faint, or out of case, 

He will be copied in his famish'ri race, 

And sink beneath the pleasing task assigned 

(For all's too little for the craving kind.) 

As for the females, with industrious care 

Take down their mettle ; keep them lean and bare : 

When conscious of their past delight, and keen 

To take the leap, and prove the sport again, 

With scanty measure then supply their food ; 

And, when athirst, restrain them from the flood; 

Their bodies harass; sink them when they run ; 

And fry their melting marrow in the sun. 

Starve them, when barns beneath their burden groan, 

And winnow'o chaff by western winds is blown: 

For fear the rankness of the swelling womb 

Should scant the passage, and confine the room ; 

Lest the fat furrows should the sense destroy 

Of genial lust, and dull the seat of joy. 

But let them suck the seed with greedy force, 

And close involve the vigour of the horse. 

The male has done: thy care mu*t now proceed 
To teeming females, and the promised breed. 
First let them run at large, and never know 
The taming yoke, or draw the crooked plough. 
Let them not leap the ditch, or swim the flood, 
Or lumber o'er the meads, or cross the wood ; 
But range the forest, by the silver side 
Of some cool stream, where Nature shall provide 
Green grass, and fatt'ning clover for their fare, 
And mossv caverns for their noontide lair, 
\\ ith lucks above, to shield the sharp nocturnal air. 

About th' Alburnian groves, with holly green, 
Of winged insects, mighty swarms are seen: 
This flying plague (to mark its quality) 
(Estros the Grecians call— Asylus, we — 
A fierce loud buzzing breeze. — Their stings draw blood 
And drive the cattle gadding through the wood 
Seiz'd with unusual pains, the} 7 loudly cry: 
Tnnagrus hastens thence, and leaves his channel dr>. 



112 GEORGIC III. 

This curse the jealous Juno did invent, 
And first employ'd for lo's punishment. 
To shun this ill, the cunning leach ordains, 
In summer's sultry heats (for then it reigns,) 
To feed the females ere the sun arise, 
Or late at night, when stars adorn the skies. 
When she has calv'd, then set the dam aside, 
Ar^d for the tender progeny provide. 
Distinguish all betimes with branding fire, 
To note the tribe, the lineage, and the sire : 
Whom to reserve for husband for the herd ; 
Or who shall be to sacrifice preferr'd ; 
Or whom thou shalt to turn thy glebe allow, 
To smooth the turrows, and sustain the plough: 
The rest, for whom no lot is yet decreed, 
May run in pastures, and at pleasure feed. 
The calf, by nature and by genius made 
To turn the glebe,breedto the rural trade. 
Set him betimes to school : and let him be 
Instructed there in rules of husbandry, 
While yet his youth is flexible and green, 
Nor bad examples of the world has seen. 
Early begin the stubborn child to break ; 
For his soft neck, a supple collar make 
Of bending osiers ; and (with time and care 
Inur'd that easy servitude to bear) 
Thy flatt'ring method on the youth pursue: 
Jom'd with his school-fellows by two and two, 
Persuade them first to lead an empty wheel, 
That scarce the dust can raise, or they can feel: 
In length of time produce the lab'ring yoke, 
And shining shares, that make the furrow smoke. 
Ere the licentious youth be thus restrained, 
Or moral precepts on their minds have gained, 
Their wanton appetites not only feed 
With delicates of leaves, and marshy weed, 
But with thy sickle reap the rankest land, 
And minister the blade with bounteous hand-: 



GEORGIC III. 113 

Nor be with harmful parsimony won 
To follow what our homely sires have done, 
Who fill'd the pail with beastings of the cow ; 
But all her udder to the calf allow. 

If to the warlike steed thy studies bend, 
Or for the prize in chariots to contend, 
iVear Pisa's flood the rapid wheels to guide, 
Or in Olympian groves aloft to ride, 
The ger/rous labours of the coursers, first, 
Must be with sight of arms and sounds of trumpets 

nurs'd ; 
Inur'd the groaning axle-tree to bear ; 
And let him clashing whips in stables hear. 
Soothe him with praise, and make him understand 
The loud applauses of his master's hand : 
This, from his weaning, let him well be taught; 
And then betimes, in a soft snaffle wrought, 
Before his tender joints with nerves are knit, 
Untried in arms, and trembling at the bit- 
But when to four full springs his years advance, 
Teach him to run the round, with pride to prance, 
And (rightly manag'd) equal time to beat, 
To turn, to bound and measure, and curvet. 
Let him to this, with easy pains, be brought, 
And seem to labour, when he labours not. 
Thus form'd for speed, he challenges the wind, 
And leaves the Scythian arrow far behind : 
He scours along the field, with loosen'd reins, 
And treads so light, he scarcely prints the plains; 
Like Boreas in his race, when rushing forth, 
He sweeps the skies, and clears the cloudy north ; 
The waving harvest bends beneath his blast ; 
The forest shakes : the groves their honours cast ; 
He flies alott, and with impetuous roar 
Pursues the foaming surges to the shore. 
Thus o'er th' Elean plains, thy vvell-breath'd horse 
Impels the flying car, and wins the course, 
Or bred to Belgian wagons, leads the way, 
L'ntir'd at night, and cheerful all the day. 



114 GEOROIC III. 

When once he's broken, feed him full and high ; 
Indulge his growth, and his gaunt sides supply. 
Before his training, keep hhn poor and low ; 
For his stout stomach with his food will grow: 
The pamper'd colt will discipline disdain, 
Impatient of the lash, and restiff to the reign. 
Wouidstthou their courage and 'their strength improved 
Too soon they must not feel the stings of love. 
Whether the bull or courser be thy care, 
Let him not leap the cow, or mount the mare. 
The youthful bull must wander in the wood, 
Behind the mountain or beyond the flood, 
Or in the stall at home his fodder find, 
Far from the charms of that alluring kind. 
With two fair eyes his mistress burns his breast. 
He looks, and languishes, and leaves his rest, 
Forsakes his food, and pining for the lass, 
I* joyless of the grove, and spurns the growing grass 
The soft seducer, with enticing looks, 
The bellowing rivals to the fight provokes. 

A beauteous heifer in the wood is bred : 
The stooping warriors aiming head to head, 
Engage their clashing horns : with dreadful sound 
The forest rattles, and the rocks rebound. 
They fence, they push, and, pushing, loudly roar: 
Their dew-laps and their sides are bath'd in gore. 
Nor, when the war is over, is it peace ; 
Nor will the vanquished bull his claim release ; 
But feeding in his breast his ancient fires, 
And cursing fate, from his proud foe retires. 
Driv'n from his native land to foreign grounds, 
He with a gen'rous rage resents his wounds, 
His ignominious flight, the victor's boast, 
And, more than both, the loves, which unreveng'd he 
Often he turns his eyes, and, with a groan, [lost. 

Surveys the pleasing kingdoms, once his own ; 
And therefore to repair his strength he tries, 
Hard'ning his limbs with painful exercise ; 
And rough upon the flinty rock he lies. 



GEORGIC III. 115 

On prickly leaves and on sharp herbs he feeds, 
Then to the prelude of a war proceeds. 
His horns, yet sore, he tries against a tiee, 
And meditates his absent enemy. 
He snuffs the wind ; his heels the sand excite ; 
But, when he stands collected in his might, 
He roars and promises a more successful right. 
Then, to redeem his honour at a blow, 
He moves his camp, to meet his careless foe. 
Not with more madness, rolling from afar, 
The spumy waves proclaim the wat'ry war, 
And mounting upwards, with a mighty roar, 
March onwards, and insult the rocky shore. 
They mate the middle region with their height, 
And fall no less than with a mountain's weight, 
The waters boil, and, belching, from below 
Black sands, as from a forceful engine throw. 

Thus ev'ry creature, and of ev'ry kind, 
The secret joys of sweet coition find. 
Not only man's imperial race, but they 
That wing the liquid air, or swim the sea, 
Or haunt the desert, rush into the flame: 
For love is lord of all, and is in all the same. 

'Tis with this rage, the mother-lion stung, 
Scours o'er the plain, regardless of her young: 
Demanding rites of love, she sternly stalks, 
And hunts her lover in his lonely walks. 
Tis then the shapeless bear his den forsakes ; 
In woods, and fields, a wild destruction makes: 
Boars whet their tusks ; to battle tigers move, 
Enrag'd with hunger, more enrag'd with love. 
Then wo to him, that, in the desert land 
Of Libya, travels o'er the burning sand ! 
The stallion snuffs the well known scent afar, 
And snoits and trembles for the distant mare: 
Nor bits nor bridles can his rage restrain ; 
And rugged rocks are mteruos'd in vain: 



116 OEOKOIC 111. 

He makes his way o'er mountains, and contemns 
Unruly torrents, and un forded streams. 
The bristled boar, who feels the pleasing wound, 
New grinds his arming tusks, and digs the ground. 
The sleepy lecher shuts his little eyes ; 
About his churning chaps the frothy bubbles rise: 
He rubs his sides against a tree ; prepares 
And hardens both his shoulders for the wars. 
YY hat did the youth, when Love's unerring dart 
Transfix' d his liver, and inflam'd his heart? 
Alone, by night, his watery way he took : 
About him, and above, the billows broke: 
The sluices of the sky were open spread ; 
And rolling thunder rattled o'er his head. 
The raging tempest call'd him back in vain, 
And ev'ry boding omen of the main : 
Nor could his kindred, nor the kindly force 
Of weeping parents, change his fatal course ; 
No, not the dying maid, who must deplore 
His floating carcass on the Sestian shore. 

I pass the wars that spotted lynxes make 
With their fierce rivals for the female's sake, 
The howling wolves', the mastiffs' am'rous rage ; 
When e'en the fearful stag dares for his hind engage. 
But, far above the rest, the furious mare, 
Barr'd from the male, is frantic with despair: 
For, when her pouting vent declares her pain, 
She tears the harness, and she rends the rein. 
For this, (when Venus gave them rage and pow'r) 
Their master's mangled members they devour, 
Of love defrauded in their longing hour. 
For love, they force through thickets of the wood, 
They climb the steepy hills, and stem the flood. 

When, at the spring's approach, their marrow burns, 
(For with the spring their gonial warmth returns) 
The mares to cliffs of rugged rocks repair, 
And with wide nosUils snuff the western air: 



GEORGIC III. 117 

When ^wond'rous to relate) the parent wind, 

Without the stallion propagates the kind. 

Then, f r'd witn am'rous rage, they take their flight 

Thro' plains, and mount the hills' unequal height; 

Nor to the north, nor to the rising sun 

Nor southward to the rainy regions, run, 

But boring to the west, and hov'ring there, 

With gaping mouths they draw prolific air, 

With which impregnate, from their groins they shed, 

A slimy juice, by false conception bred. 

The shepherd knows it well, and calls by name 

Hippomanes, to note the mother's flame. 

This, gather'd in the planetary hour, 

With noxious weeds, and spell'd with words of pow'r, 

Dire stepdames in the magic bowl infuse, 

And mix, for deadly draughts, the pois'nous juice. 

But time is lost, which never will renew, 
While we too far the pleasing path pursue, 
Surveying nature with too nice a view. 
I et lhis suffice for herds: our following care 
Shall woolly flocks and shaggy goats declare. 
Noi can L doubt what toil 1 must bestow, 
To raise my subject from a ground so low ; 
And the mean matter which my theme affords, 
T' embellish w ; th magnificence of words. 
But the commanding muse my clmriot guides, 
Which o'er the dubious cliff securely rides: 
And pieas'd I am, no beaten road to take, 
But first the way to new discov'ries make. 

Now, sacred Pales, in a lofty strain 
i sing the rural honours of thy reign. 
First, with assiduous care, from winter keep, 
Well-fodder'd in the stalls, thy tender sheep: 
Then spread with straw the bedding of thy fold. 
With fern beneath, to 'fend the bitter cold : 
That nee from gouts thou may'st preserve thy care, 
And clear from scabs, produe'd by freezing air. 



118 GEORGIC 111. 

Next let thy goats officiously be nursed, 

And led to living streams, to quench their thirst, 

Feed them with winter- browse ; and, for their iaif, 

A cote, that opens to the south, prepare ; 

Where basking in the sunshine they may lie, 

And the short remnants of his heat enjoy. 

This during winter's drisly reign be done, 

Till the new Ram receives the exalted sun : 

For hairy goats of equal profit are 

With woolly sheep, and ask an equal care. 

'Tis true, the fleece, when drunk with Tyrian juice 

Is dearly sold : but not for needful use: 

For the salacious goat increases more, 

And twice as largely yields her milky store. 

The still distended udders never fail, 

But, when they seem exhausted, swell the pail. 

Meantime the pastor shears their hoary beards, 

And eases of their hair the ioaden herds. 

Their cam'lots, warm in tents, the soldier hold, 

And shield the shiv'ring mariner from cold. 

On shrubs they browse, and, on the bleaky top 
Of rugged hills, the thorny bramble crop. 
Attended with their bleating kids, they come 
At night, unask'd, and mindful of their home ; 
And scarce their swelling bags the threshold over- 
come. * 
So much the more thy diligence bestow . 
hi depth of winter to defend the snow, 
By how much less the tender helpless kind, 
For their own ills, can fit provision lmd. 
Then minister the browse with bounteous hand -, 
And open let thy stacks all winter stand. 
But, when the western winds with vital pow'r 
Call forth the tender grass and budding flow'r, 
Then, at the last, produce in open air 
Both flocks; and send them to their summer fare. 
Before the sun while Hesperus appears ; 
First let them sip from herbs the pearly tears 



v GEORGIC III. 119 

Of morning dews, and after break their fast 

On green-sward ground— a cool and grateful taste. 

But, when the day's fourth hour has drawn the dews, 

And the sun's sultry heat their thirst renews ; 

When creaking grasshoppers on shrubs complain, 

Then lead them to their watering-troughs again. 

In summer's heat, some bending valley And, 

Clos'd from the sun, but open to the wind ; 

Or seek some ancient oak, whose arms extend 

In ample breadth, thy cattle to defend, 

Or solitary grove, or gloomy glade, 

To shield them with its venerable shade. 

Once more to wat'ring lead ; and feed again 

When the low sun is sinking to the main, 

When rising Cynthia sheds her silver dews, 

And the cool evening- breeze the meads renews, 

When linnets fill the woods with tuneful sound, 

And hollow shores the halcyon's voice rebound. 

Why should my muse enlarge on Libyan swains, 
Their scatter'd cottages, and ample plains, 
Where oft the flocks without a leader stray, 
Or through continu'd deserts take their way, 
And, feeding, add the length of night to day? 
Whole months they wander, grazing as they go; 
Nor folds, nor hospitable harbour know: 
Such an extent of plains, so vast a space 
Of wilds unknown, and of untasted grass, 
Allures their e} T es: the shepherd last appears, 
And with him all his patrimony bears, 
His house and household gods, his trade of war, 
His bow and quiver, and his trusty cur. 
Thus, under heavy arms, the youth of Rome 
Their long laborious marches overcome, 
Cheerlv their tedious travels undergo, 
And pitch their sudden car* p before the foe. 

Nit so the Scythian shepherd tends his fold, 
N?7 he who bears in Thrace the bitter cold, 



120 GEORGIC III. 

Nor he who treads the bleak Mscotian strand, 

Or where proud Ister rolls his yellow sand. 

Eariy they stall their flocks and herds ; for there 

No grass the fields, no leaves the forests, wear: 

The frozen earth lies buried there, below 

A hilly heap, sev'n cubits deep in snow: 

And all west allies of stormy Boreas blow. 

The sun from far peeps with a sickly face, 

Too weak, the clouds and mighty fogs to chase, 

When up the skies he shoots his rosy head, 

Or in the ruddy ocean seeks his bed. 

Swift rivers are with sudden ice constrained ; 

And studded wheels are on its back sustain' d, 

A hostry now for wagons, which before 

Tall ships of burden on its bosom bore. 

The brazen caldrons with the frosts are flawM; 

The garments, stiff with ice, at hearths is thaw'd ; 

With axes first they cleave the vine ; and thence, 

By weight, the solid portions they dispense. 

From locks uncomb'd, and from the frozen beard, 

Long icicles depend, and crackling sounds are heard 

Meantime, perpetual sleet and driving snow 

Obscure the skies, and hang on herds below. 

The starving cattle perish in their stalls ; 

Huge oxen stand enclos'd in wintry walls 

Of snow congeal' d ; whole herds are buried there 

Of mighty stags, and scarce their horns appear. 

The dext'rous huntsmen wounds not these afar 

With shafts or darts, or makes a distant war 

With dogs, or pitches toils to stop thejr flight, 

But close engages in unequal fight ; 

And, while they strive in vain to make their way 

Through hills of snow, and pitifully bray, 

Assaults with dint of sword,or pointed spears, 

And homeward, on his back, the joyful burden bears. 

The men to subterranean caves retire, 

Secure from cold, and crowd the cheerful fire: 



GEORGIC III. 121 

With trunks of elms and oaks the hearth they load, 
Noi tempt th' inclemency of heaven abroad. 
Their jovial nights in frolics and in play 
They pass, to drive the tedious hours away : 
And tlteir cold stomachs with crovvn'd goblets cheer 
Of windy cider, and of barmy beer. 
Such are the cold Rhipaean race, and such 
The savage Scythian, and unwarlike Dutch, 
Where skins of beasts the rude barbarians wear, 
The spoils of foxes, and the furry bear. 

Is wool thy care ? Let not thy cattle go 
W' here bushes are, where burs and thistles grow; 
Nor in too rank a pasture let them feed 
Then of the purest white select thy breed : 
E'en though a snowy ram thou shalt behold, 
Prefer him not in haste, for husband to thy fold : 
But search his mouth ; and, if a swarthy tongue 
Is underneath his humid palate hung, 
Reject him, lest he darken all the flock ; 
And substitute another from thy stock. 
'Twas thus, with fleeces milky white, (if we 
May trust report) Fan, god of Arcady, 
Did bribe thee, Cynthia ; nor didst thou disdain, 
When call'd in woody shades, to cure a lover's pain. 

If milk be thy design, with plenteous hand 
Bring clover-grass ; and from the marshy land 
Salt herbage for the fodd'ring rack pi jvide, 
To fill their bags, and swell the milky tide. 
These raise their thirst, and to the taste restore 
The savour of the salt, on which they fed before. 

Some, when the kids their dams too deeply drain, 
With gags and muzzles their soft mouths restrain. 
Their morning milk the peasants press at night; 
Their ev'ning meal before the rising light, 
To market bear ; or sparingly they steep 
With seasoning salt, and stor'd for winter keep. 

Nor, last, forget thy faithful dogs: but feed 
With fattening whey the mastiff's gen'rous breed, 



t&$ GE;R«fC HI. 

And Spartan race, who, for the fold's relief, 

\v ill prosecute with cr.es the nightly thief, 

Kepuhe the prowling wolf, and hold at bay 

Tiie mountain-robbers rushing to the prey. 

With cries of hounds, thou may'st pursue the fear 

Of flying hares, and chase the fallow deer, 

Rouse from their desert dens the bristled rage 

Of boars, and beamy stags in toils engage. 

With smoke of burning cedar scent thy walls, 

And fume with stinking galbanum thy stalls, 

With that rank odour from thy dwelling-place 

To drive the viper's brood and all the vencmi'd race: 

For often, under stalls unmov'd, they lie, 

Obscure in shades, and shunning heav'n's broad eye: 

And snakes, familiar, to the hearth succeed, 

Disclose their eggs, and near the chimney breed — 

Whether to roofy houses they repair, 

Or sun themselves abroad in open air, 

In all abodes of pestilential kind 

To sheep and oxen, and the painful hind. 

Take, shepherd, lake a plant of stubborn oak, 

And labour him with many a sturdy stroke, 

Or with hard stones demolish from afar 

His haughty crest, the seat of all the war; 

Invade his hissing throat, and winding spires; 

Till, stretch'd in length^ tiY unfolded foe retires. 

He drags his tail, and for his head provides, 

And in some secret cranny slowly glides ; 

But leaves expos'd to blows his back and batter'd sides. 

In fair Calabria's woods a snake is bred, 
With curling crest, and with advancing head: 
W r aving he rolls, and makes a winding track ; 
His belly spotted, burnished is his back. 
While springs are broken, while the southern air, 
And dropping heav'ns the moisten'd earth repair, 
He lives on standing lakes and trembling bogs, 
And fills his maw with fish, or with loquacious frogs: 



GKORGIC III. 123 

But when, in muddy pools, the water sinks, 

And the chapt earth is furrow'd o'er with chinks, 

He leaves the fens, and leaps upon the ground, 

And, hissing, rolls his glaring eyes around. 

With thirst inflam'd, impatient of the heats, 

He rages in the fields, and wide destruction threats. 

Oh ! let not sleep my closing eyes invade 

In open plains, or in the secret shade, 

V^ hen he, renew'd in all the speckled pride 

Of pompous youth, has cast his slough aside, 

And in his summer liv'ry rolls along, 

Erect, and brandishing his forky tongue, 

Leaving his nest, and his imperfect young, 

And thoughtless of his eggs, forgets to rear 

The hopes of poison for the following year. 

The causes and the signs shall next be told, 
Of ev'ry sickness that infects the fold. 
A scabber tetter on their pelts will stick, 
When the raw rain has pierc'd them to the quick, 
Or searching frosts have eaten through the skin, 
Or burning icicles are lodg'd within : 
Or, when the fleece is shorn, if sweat remains 
Unwash'd, and soaks into their empty veins; 
When their defenceless limbs the brambles tear, 
Short of their wool, and naked from the shear. 

Good shepherds, after shearing, drench their sheep; 
And their flock's father (forc'd from high to leap) 
Swims down the stream, and plunges in the deep. 
They oint their naked limbs with mother'd oil ; 
Or, from the founts where living sulphur's boil, 
They mix a med'cine to foment their limbs, 
With scum that on the molten silver swims ; 
Fat pitch, and black bitumen, add to these, 
Besides the waxen labour of the bees, 
And hellebore, and squills deep rooted in the seas. 
Receipts abound ; but, searching all thy store, 
The best is still at hand, to lance the sore, 



124 OEORGIC III. 

And cut the head ; for, till the core be found, 
The secret vice is fed, and gathers ground, 
While, making fruitless moan, the shepherd stands, 
And, when the lancing knife requires his hands, 
Vain help, with idle pray'rs, from heav'n demands. 
Deep in their bones when fevers fix their seat, 
And rack their limbs, and lick the vital heat. 
The ready cure to cool the raging pain 
Is underneath the foot to breathe a vein. 
This remedy the Scythian shepherds found : 
Th' inhabitants of Thracia's hilly ground, 
And Gelons, use it, when for drink and food 
They mix their curdled milk with horses' blood. 

But, where thou seest a single sheep remain 
lu shades aloof, or couch'd upon the plain, 
Or listlessly to crop the tender grass, 
Or late to lag behind with truant pace ; 
Revenge the crime, and take the traitor's head, 
Ere in the faultless flock the dire contagion spread. 

On winter seas we fewer storms behold, 
Than foul diseases that infect the fold. 
Nor do those ills on single bodies prey, 
But oft'ner bring the nation to decay, 
And sweep the present stock and future hope away. 

A dire example of this truth appears, 
When, after such a length of rolling years, 
We see the naked Alps, and thin remains 
Of scatter'd cots, and yet unpeopled plains, 
Once fill'd with grazing flocks, the shepherds' happy 
reigns. 

Here, from the vicious air and sickly skies, 
A plague did on the dumb creation rise: 
During th' autumnal heats th' infection grew, 
Tame cattle and the beasts of nature slew, 
Pois'ning the standing lakes, and pools impure ; 
iVor was the foodful grass in fields secure. 
Strange death ! for, when the thirsty fire had drunk 
Their vital blood, and the dry nerves were shrunk, 



GEORGIC III. 126 

When the contracted limbs were cramp'd, e'en then 

A wat'rish humour swell'd and ooz'd again. 

Converting into bane the kindly juice, 

Ordain 'd by ^X at u re for a better use. 

The victim ox, that was for altars prest, 

Trimm'd with white ribbons, and with garlands drest, 

Sunk of himself, without the gods' command, 

Preventing the slow sacrificer's hand. 

Or, by the holy butcher if he fell, 

Th' inspected entrails could no fates foretell : 

Nor, laid on altars, did pure flames arise; 

But clouds of smould'ring smoke forbad ihe sacrifice. 

Scarcely the knife was redden'd wkh his gore, 

Or the black poison stain'd the sandy floor. 

The thriven calves in meads their food forsake, 

And render their sweet souls before the plenteous rack. 

The fawning dog runs mad ; the wheezing swine 

With coughs is chok'd, and labours from the chine: 

The victor horse, forgetful of his food, 

The palm renounces, and abhors the flood. 

He paws the ground ; and on his hanging ears 

A doubtful sweat in clammy drops appears: 

Parch'd is his hide, and rugged are his hairs. 

Such are the symptoms of the young disease : 

But, in time's process, when his pains increase, 

He rolls his mournful eyes : he deeply groans 

With patient sobbing, and with manly moans. 

He heaves for breath ; which, from his lungs suppliec 

And fetch'd from far, distends his lab'ring side. 

To his rough palate his dry tongue succeeds: 

And ropy gore he from his nostrils bleeds. 

A drench of wine has with success been us'd, 

And through a horn the gen'rous juice infus'd, 

Which, timely taken, op'd his closing jaws, 

But, if too late, the patient's death did cause 

For the too vig'rous dose too fiercely wrought, 

And added fury to the strength it brought. 



126 georcic in. 

Recruited into rage, he grinds his teeth 
In his own flesh, and feels approaching death. 
Ye gods, to better fate good men dispose, 
And *urn that impious error on our foes ! 

The steer, who to the yoke was bred to bow, 
(Studious of tillage, and the crooked plough) 
Falls down and dies ; and, dying, spews a flood 
Of foamy madness, mix'd with clotted blood. 
The clown, who, cursing Providence, repines, 
His mournful fellow from the team disjoins ; 
With many a groan forsakes his fruitless care 
And in th' unfinish'd furrow leaves the share. 
The pining steer no shades of lofty woods, 
Nor flow'ry meads, can ease, nor crystal floods 
Roll'd from the rock : his flabby flanks decrease ; 
His eyes are settled in a stupid peace ; 
His bulk too weighty for his thighs is grown ; 
And his unwieldy neck hangs drooping down. 
Now what avails- his well-deserving toil 
To turn the glebe, or smooth the rugged soil ? 
And yet he never supt in solemn state, 
(Nor undigested feasts did urge his fate) 
Nor day to night luxuriously did join, 
Nor surfeited on rich Campanian wine. 
Simple his bev'rage, homely was his food, 
The wholesome herbage, and the running flood : 
No dreadful dreams awak'd him with affright: 
His pains by day secur'd his rest at night. 

'Twas then that buffaloes, ill pair'd, were seen 
To draw the car of Jove's imperial queen, 
For want of oxen ; and the lab'ring swain 
Scratched, with a rake, a furrow for his grain, 
And cover'd with his hand, the shallow seed again. 
He yokes himself, and up the hilly height 
With his own shoulders, draws the wagon's weight. 

The nightly wolf, that round th' inclosure prowl'd 
To leap the fence, now plots not on the fold, 



GEORGIC IT1. 127 

Tam'd with a sharper pain. The fearful doe, 

Ann" flying stag, amidst the greyhounds go, 

And round the dwellings roam of man, their fiercer foe. 

The scaly nations of the sea profound, 

Like shipwreck'd carcases, are driv'n aground, 

And mighty phocie, never seen before 

In shallow streams, are stranded on the shore. 

The viper dead within her hole is found : 

Defenceless was the shelter of the ground. 

The water-snake, whom fish and paddocks fed, 

With staring scales lies poison'd in his bed: 

To birds their native heav'ns contagious prove: 

From clouds they fall, and leave their souls above. 

Besides, to change their pasture 'tis in vain, 
Or trust to physic : physic is their bane. 
The learned leeches in despair depart, 
And shake their heads, desponding of their art. 

Tisiphone let loose from under ground. 
Majestically pale, now treads the round, 
Before her drives Diseases and Affright, 
And ev'ry moment rises to the sight, 
Aspiring to the skies, encroaching on the light. 
The rivers, and their banks, and hills around, 
With lowings and with dying bleats resound. 
At length, she strikes a universal blow : 
To death at once whole herds of cattle go : 
Sheep, oxen, horses, fall ; and, heap'd on high, 
The diff'ring species in confusion lie, 
Till, warn'd by frequent ills, the way they found 
To lodge their loathsome carrion under ground ; 
For useless to the currier were their hides: 
Nor could their tainted flesh with ocean-tides 
Be freed from tilth ; nor could Vulcanian flame 
The stench abolish, or the savour tame. 
Nor safely could they shear their fleecy store, 
(Made drunk with pois'nous juice, and stiff with gore) 
Or touch the web: but, if the vest they wear 
Red blisters rising on their paps appear 



128 GEORGIC III. 

And flaming carbuncles, and noisome sweat. 
And clammy dews, that loathsome lice beget; 
'Till tiie slow-creeping evil eats his way, 
Consumes the parching limbs, and makes the life hip 
prey. 



GEORGIC. IV. 



ARGUMENT. 

Virgril has taken care lo raise the subject of each Georgia. 5a 
the first, he has only dead matter on which to work. In the 
second, he just steps on the world of life, and describes that 
degree of it which is to be found in vegetables. In the thir.i, 
he advances to animals: and, in the last, he singles out the 
bee, which may be reckoned the most sagacious of them, for 
his subject. 

Iq this Georgic, he shows us what station is most proper for the 
bees, and when they begin to gather honey: how to call thern 
home when they swarm ; aud how to part them when they 
are engaged in battle. From hence he takes occasion to dis- 
cover their different kinds: and, after an excursion, relates 
their prudent and politic administration of affairs, and (he 
general diseases that often rage in their hives, with the proper 
symptoms and remedies of each disease. In the last place 
he lays down a method of repairing their kind, supposing Iheii 
whole breed lost ; aad gives at large the history of its inven- 
tion. 



I HE gifts of heav'n my following song pursues, 
Aerial honey, and ambrosial dews. 
Maecenas, read this other part, that sings 
EmnattFd squadrons and advent'rous kings — 
A mighty pomp, though, maae of little things. 
Thbir arms, their arts, their manners, I disclose, 
And how they war, and whence the people rohe. 
Slight is the subject, but the praise not small, 
if heav'n assist, and Phoebus hear my call. 

First, for thy bees a quiet station find, 
And lodge them under covert of the wind 
vol. i. 9 



130 GEORGIC IV. 

(For winds, when homeward they return, wiii drive 
The loaded carrier? from their evening hive,) 
Far irom the cows' and goats' insulting crew, 
That trample down the flow'rs, and brush the dew. 
The painted lizard, and the birds of prey, 
Foes of the frugal kind, be far away — 
The titmouse, and the pecker's hungry brood, 
And Procne, with her bosom stain'd in blood: 
These rob the trading citizens, and bear 
The trembling captives through the liquid ?.ir, 
And for their callow young a i,ruel feast prepare. 
But near a living stream their mansion place, 
Edg'd round with moss, and tufts of matted grass: 
And plant, (the wind's impetuous rage to stop) 
Wild ohve trees, or palms, before the busy shop ; 
T hat when the youthful prince, with proud alarm, 
Calls out th' venturous colony to swarm — 
When first their way through yielding air they witig. 
New to the pleasures of their native spring — 
The banks of brooks may make a cold retreat 
Foi the raw soldiers from the scalding heat, 
And neighb'ring trees with friendly shade invite 
The troops, unus'd to long laborious flight. 
Then o'er the running stream or standing lake, 
A passage for thy weary people make ; 
With osier floats the standing water strow ; 
Of massy stones make bridges, if it How ; 
That backing in the sun thy bees may lie, 
And, resting there their flaggy pinions dry, 
When, late returning home, the laden host 
By raging winds is wreck' rl upon the coast. 
Wild thyme and sav'ry set around their cell, 
Sweet to the taste, and fragrant to the smell: 
Set rows of rosemary with ilow'ring stem, 
And let the purple vi'lets drink the stream. 

Whether thou build the palace of thy bees 
With twisted osiers, or with barks of trees. 



GEORGIC IV. 131 

Make but a narrow mouth ; for as the cold 
Congeals into a lump the liquid gold, 
So 'tis again dissolved by summer's neat ; 
And the sweet labours by extremes defeat. 
And therefore not in vain, th' industrious kind 
With dauby wax and flow'rs the chinks have lin'd, 
And with their stores of gather'd glue, contrive 
To stop the vents and crannies of their hive. 
Not birdlime, or Idaean pitch, produce 
A more tenacious mass of clammy juice. 

i\or bees are lodg'd in hives alone, but found 
In chambers of their own beneath the ground : 
Their vaulted ioofs are hung in pumices, 
And in the rotten trunks of hollow trees. 

But plaster thou the chinky hives with clay, 
And leafy branches o'er their lodgings lay : 
Nor place them where too deep a water flows, 
Or where the yew, their pois'nous neighbour, grows ; 
Nor roast red crabs, V offend the niceness of their 

nose; 
Nor near the streaming stench of muddy ground ; 
Nor hollow rocks that render back the sound, 
And double images of voice rebound. 

For what remains, when golden suns appear, 
And under earth have driv'n the winter year, 
The winged nation wanders through the skies, 
And o'er the plains and shady forest flies: 
Then, stooping on the meads and leafy bow'rs, 
They skim the floods, and sip the purple flow'rs. 
Exalted hence, and drunk with secret joy, 
Their young succession all their cares employ: 
They breed, they brood, instruct, and educate, 
And make provision for tne future state: 
They work their waxen lodgings in their hives, 
They labour honey to sustain their lives. 
But when thou seest a swaiming cloud arise, 
That sweeps aloft, and darkens all the skies, 



132 GEORGIC IV. 

The motions of their hasty flight attend ; 

And know, to floods or woods, their airy march they 

bend. 
Then melfoil bent, and honey-suckles pound; 
With these alluring savours strew the ground: 
And mix with tinkling brass the cymbal's droning 

sound. 
Straight to their ancient cells, recall'd from air, 
The reconciled deserter's will repair. 
But, if intestine broils alarm the hive, 
(For two pretenders oft for empire strive) 
The vulgar in divided factions jar ; 
And murm'ring sounds proclaim the civil war. 
Inflam'd with ire, and trembling with disdain, 
Scarce can their limbs their mighty souls contain. 
With shouts, the coward's courage they excite, 
And martial clangors call them out to fight: 
With hoarse alarms the hollow camp rebounds, 
That imitate the trumpets angry sounds: 
Then to their common standards they repair; 
The nimble horsemen scour the fields of air; 
In form of battle drawn, they issue forth, 
And ev'ry knight is proud to prove his worth. 
Prest for their country's honour, and their kings, 
On their sharp beaks they whet their pointed stings, 
A nd exercise their arms, and tremble with their wings. 
Full in the midst the haughty monarchs ride ; 
The trusty guards come up, and close the side ; 
With shouts the daring foe to battle is defied. 
Thus, in the season of unclouded spring, 
To war they follow their undaunted king, 
Crowd through their gates ; and, in the fields of tight, 
The shocking squadrons meet in mortal fight. 
Headlong they fall from high, and wounded wound ; 
And heaps of slaughter'd soldiers bite the ground. 
Hard hailstones lie not thicker on the plain, 
Mor shaken oaks such show'rs of acorns rain 



GEORGIC IV. 133 

With gorgeous wings, the marks of sovereign sway v 120 

The two contending princes make their way; 

Intrepid through the midst of danger go, 

Their friends encourage and amaze the toe. 

With mighty souls in narrow bodies prest, 

They challenge, and encounter breast to breast; 

So fixM on fame, unknowing how to fly, 

And obstinately bent to win or die, 

That long the doubtful combat they maintain, 

Till one prevails — for one can only reign. 

Yet all these dreadful deeds, this deadly fray, 

A cast of scatter'd dust will soon alJay, 

And undecided leave the fortune of the day. 

When both the chiefs are sunder'd from the fight, 

Then to the lawful king restore his right; 

And let the wasteful prodigal be slain, 

That he, who best deserves, alone may reign. 

With ease distinguish'd is the regal race : 

One monarch wears an honest open face : 

Shap'd to his size, and godlike to behold, 

His royal body shines with specks of gold, 

And ruddy scales; for empire he design'd, 

Is better born, and of a nobler kind. 

That other looks like nature in disgrace : 

Gaunt are his sides, and sullen is his face , 

And like their grisly prince appear his gloomy race. 

Grim, ghastly, rugged, like a thirsty train 

That long have traveled through a desert plain, 

And spit from their dry chaps the gathered dust again 

The better brood, unlike the bastard crew, 

Are mark'd with royal streaks of shining hue ; 

Glitt'ring and ardent, though in body less : 

From these at pointed seasons, hope to press 

Huge heavy honeycombs, of golden juice, 

Not only sweet, but puie, and fit for use, 

T' allay the strength and hardness of the wine, 

And with old Bacchus, new metheglin join. 



134 uEORGIC IV. 

But, when the swarms are eager of their play, 
And loathe their empty hives, and idly stray, 
Restrain the wanton fugitives, and take 
A timely care to bring the truants back. 
The task is easy — but to clip the wings 
Of their high-flying arbitrary kings. 
At their command, the people swarm away : 
Confine the tyrant, and the slaves will stay. 

Sweet gardens, full of saffron flowers, invite 
The wand'ring gluttons, and retard their flight — 
Besides the god obscene, who frights away, 
With his lath sword, the thieves and birds of prey, 
With his own hand, the guardian of the bees, 
For slips of pine may search the mountain trees, 
And with wild thyme and sav'ry plant the plain, 
Till his hard horny fingers ach with pain ; 
And deck with fruitful trees the fields around, 
And with refreshing waters drench the ground. 

Now, did I not so near my labours end, 
Strike sail, and hastening to the harbour tend, 
My song to flow'ry gardens might extend — 
To teach the vegetable arts to sing, 
The Prestan roses, and their double spring; 
How succ'ry drinks the running streams, and how 
Green beds of parsley near the river grow ; 
How cucumbers along the surface creep, 
With crooked bodies, and with bellies deep — 
The late narcissus, and the winding trail 
Of bear's foot, myrtles green, and ivy pale: 
For, where with stately tow'rs Tarentum stands, 
And deep Galaesus soaks the yellow sands, 
I chanc'd an old Corycian swain to know, 
Lord of few acres, and those barren too, 
Unlit for sheep or vines, and more unfit to sow : 
Yet, lab'ring well his little spot of ground, 
Some scattering pot-herbs here and there he found, 
Which, cultivated with his daily care, 
And bruis'd with vervain, were his frugal fare. 



GEORGIC IV. 135 

Sometimes white lillies did their leaves afford 

With wholesome poppy flow'rs, to mend his homely 

board : 
For, late returning home, he supp'd at ease, 
And wisely deem'd the wealth of monarchs less: 
The little of his own, because his own did please. 
To quit his care, he gather'd first of all* 
In spring the roses, apples in the fall : 
And, when cold winter split the rocks in twain, 
And ice the running rivers did restrain, 
He stripped the bear's-foot of its leafy growth, 
And, calling western winds, accused the spring of sloth 
He therefore first among the swains was found 
To reap the product of his labour'd ground, 
And squeeze the comb, with golden liquor crown'd. 
His limes were first in flow'rs ; his lofty pines, 
With friendly shade, secur'd his tender vines. 
For ev'ry bloom his trees in spring afford, 
An autumn apple was by tale restor'd. 
He knew to rank his elms in even rows, 
For fruit the grafted pear tree to dispose, 
And tame to plums the sourness of the sloes. 
With spreading planes he made a cool retreat, 
To shade good fellows from the summer's heat, 
But, straiten'd in my space, I must forsake 
This task, for others afterwards to take. 

Describe we next the nature of the bees, 
Bestow'd 03' Jove for secret services, 
When, by the tinkling sound of timbrels led, 
The king of heav'n in Cretan caves they fed. 
Of all the race of animals, alone 
The bees have common cities of their own, 
And common sons : beneath one law they live, 
And with one common stock their traffic drive. 
Each has a certain home, a sev'ral stall : 
All is the state's ; the state provides lor all. 
Mindful of coming cold, they share the pain, 
And hoard, for winter's use, the summer's ^ain. 



136 GEOROIC IV. 

Some o'er the public magazines preside ; 
And some are sent new tbrage to provide. 
These drudge in fields abroad ; and those at home 
Lay deep Inundations for the labour'd comb, 
With dew, narcissus-leaves, and clammy gum. 
To pitch the waxen flooring some contrive ; 
Some nurse the future nation of the hive ; 
Sweet honey some condense; some purge the grout ; 
The rest, in cells apart, ihe liquid nectar shut: 
All, with united force, combine to drive 
The lazy drones from the laborious hive: 
With envy stung, they view each others deeds: 
With diligence the fragrant work proceeds. 
As when the Cyclops, at th' almighty nod, 
New thunder hasten for their angry god, 
Subdu'd in fire the stubborn metal lies: 
One brawny smith the puffing bellows plies, 
And draws and blows reciprocating air. 
Others to quench the hissing mass prepare: 
With lifted arms they order ev'ry blow, 
And chime their sounding hammers in a row ; 
With labour'd anvils ^Etna groans below. 
Strongly they strike; huge flakes of flames expire: 
With tongs they turn the steel, and vex it in the fire. 
If little things with great we may compare, 
Such are the bees, and such their busy care ; 
Studious of honey, each in his degree, 
The youthful swain, the grave experienc'd bee — 
That in the field ; this, in affairs of state 
Emplov'd at home, abides within the gate, 
To fortify the combs, to build the wall, 
To prop the ruins, lest the fabric fall : 
But, late at night, with weary pinions come 
The lab'ring youth, and heavy laden, home. 
Plains, meads, and orchards, all the day he plies, 
The gleans of yellow thyme distend his thighs 
He spoils the saffron flow'rs: he sips the blues 
Of vi'lets, wilding olooms, and willow dews. 



GEORGIC IV\ 137 

Their toil is common ; common is then sleep ; 
They shake Ineir wings when morn begins to peep; 
Rush thrcigh the city gates without delay ; 
Nor ends their work but with declining day. 
Then, having spent the last remains of light. 
They give their bodies due repose at night, 
When hollow murmurs of their evening bells 
Dismiss the sleepy swains, and toll them to their cells. 
When once in beds their weary limbs they steep, 
No buzzing sounds disturb their golden sleep. 
*Tis sacred silence all. Nor dare they stray, 
When rain is promis'd, or a stormy day ; 
But near the city walls their watering take, 
Nor forage far, but short excursions make. 

And as when empty barks on billows float, 
W\th sandy ballast sailors trim the boat ; 
So bees bear gravel stones, whose poising weight 
Steers through the whistling winds their steady flight. 

But (what's more strange) their modest appetites, 
Averse from Venus, fly the nuptial rites. 
No lust enervates their heroic mind, 
Nor wastes their strength on wanton womankind ; 
But in their mouths reside their genial pow'rs : 
They gather children from the leaves and flow'rs. 
Thus make they kings to fill the regal seat, 
And thus their little citizens create, 
And waxen cities build, the palaces of state. 
And oft on rocks their tender wings they tear, 
And sink beneath the burdens which they bear: 
Such rage of honey in their bosom beats, 
And such a zeal they have for flow'ry sweets. 

Thus, though the race of life they quickly run, 
Which in the space of sev'n short years is done: 
Th' immortal line in sure succession reigns ; 
The fortune of the family remains ; 
And grandsires' grandsires the long list contains. 

Besides, not Egypt, India, Media, more 
With servile awe theii idol king adore ; 



133 GEORGIC IV. 

While he survives, in concord and content 
The commons live, by no divisions rent: 
But the great monarch's death dissolves the go- 
vernment. 
All goes to ruin ; they themselves contrive 
To rob the honey, and subvert the hive. 
The king presides, his subjects' toil surveys, 
The servile route their careful Ctesar praise : 
Him they extol; they worship him alone; 
They crowd his levees, and support his throne: 
They raise him on their shoulders with a shout; 
/nd, when their sov'reign's quarrel calls them out, 
His foes to mortal combat they defy, 
And think it honour at his feet to die. 

Induc'd by such examples some have taught 
That bees have portion of ethenal thought — 
Endu'd with particles of heavenly fires ; 
For God the whole created mass inspires. 
Through heav'n, and earth, and ocean's depth, he throws 
His influence round, and kindles as he goes, 
Hence flocks, and herds, and men, and beasts, and fowls, 
With breath are quicken'd, and attract their souls; 
Hence take the forms his prescience did ordain, 
And into him at length resolve again. 
No room is left for death : they mount the sky, 
And to their own congenial planets fly. 

Now, when thou hast decreed to seize their stores, 
And by prerogative to break their doors, 
With sprinkled water first the city choke, 
And then pursue the citizens with smoke. 
Two honey- harvests fall in ev'ry year: 
First, when the pleasing Pleiades appear, 
And, springing upward, spurn the briny seas: 
Again, when their affrighted choir surveys 
The wat'ry Scorpion mend his pace behind, 
With a black train of storms, and winter wind, 
They plunge into the deep ami safe protection find. 



GEORGIC IV 139 

Prone to revenge, the bees, a wrathful race, 
When once provck'd, assault the aggressor's face, 
And through the purple veins a passage find ; 
There fix their stings, and leave their souls behind. 

But, if a pinching winter thou foresee, 
And wouldst preserve thy famish'd family; 
With fragrant thyme the city fumigate, 
And break the waxen walls to save the state. 
For lurking lizards often lodge, by stealth ; 
Within the suburbs, and purloin their wealth ; 
And worms, that shun the light, a dark retreat 
Have found in combs, and undermin'd the seat; 
Or lazy drones, without their share of pain, 
In winter-quarters free, devour the gain ; 
Or wasps infest the camp with loud alarms, 
And mix in battle with unequal arms; 
Or secret moths are there in silence fed ; 
Or spiders in the vault their snary webs have spread. 

The more oppress'd by foes, or fatnine-pin'd, 
The more increase thy care to save the sinking kind: 
With greens and flow'rs lecruit their empty hives, 
And seek fresh forage to sustain their lives. 

But, since they share with man one common fate, 
In health and sickness, and in turns of state, — 
Observe the symptoms. When they fall away, 
And languish with insensible decay, 
They change their hue; with haggard eyes they stare; 
Lean are their looks, and shagged is their hair: 
And crowds of dead, that never must return 
To their lov'd hives, in decent pomp are borne : 
Their friends attend the hearse ; the next relations 

mourn. 
The sick, for air, before the portal gasp, 
Their feeble legs within each other clasp, 
Or idle in their empty hives remain, 
Benumb'd with cold, and listless of their gain. 
Soft whispers then, and broken sounds, are heard, 
As when the woods by gentle winds are stirr'd ; 



140 GEORGIC IV. 

Such stifled noise as the close furnace hides, 

Or dying murmurs of departing tides. 

This when thou seest galbanean odours use, 

And honey in the sickly hive infuse. 

Through reeden pipes convey the golden Hood, 

T' invite the people to their wonted food. 

Mix it with thicken'd juice of sodden wines, 

And raisins from the grapes of Psythian vines: 

To these add pounded galls, and roses dry, 

And, with Cecropian thyme, strong- seen ted centaury. 

A flow'r there is, that grows in meadow-groimd, 
Amellus call'd, and easy to be found ; 
For, from one root, the rising stem bestows 
A wood of leaves, and vi'Iet purple boughs: 
The flow'r itself is glorious to behold, 
And shines on altars like refulgent gold — 
Sharp to the taste — by shepherds near the stream 
Of Mella found ; and thence they gave the name. 
Boil this restoring root in gen'rous wine, 
And set beside the door, the sickly stock to dine. 
But, if the lab'ring kind be wholly lost, 
And not to be retriev'd with care or cost ; 
'Tis time to touch the precepts of an art 
Th' Arcadian master did of old impart; 
And how he stock'd his empty hives again, 
Renew'd with putrid gore of oxen slain. 
A n ancient legend I prepare to sing, 
And upward follow Fame's immortal spring ; 

For, where with sevenfold horns mysterious Nile 
Surrounds the skirts of Egypt's fruitful isle, 
And where in pomp the sunburnt people ride, 
On painted barges o'er the teeming tide, 
Which, pouring down from Ethiopian lands, 
Makes green the soil with slime, and black prolific 

sands — 
That length of region, and large tract of ground, 
In this one art a sure relief have found. 



GEORGIC IV. 141 

First, in a place, by nature close, they build 

A narrow flooring, gutter'd, walPd, and til'd. 

In this, four windows are contriv'd, that strike 

To the four wkids oppos'd, their beams oblique. 

A steer of two years old they take, whose head 

Now first with burnished horns begins to spread : 

They stop his nostrils while he strives in vain 

To breathe free air, and struggles with his pain 

Knock'd down, he dies: his bowels bruis'd within, 

Betray no wound on his unbroken skin. 

Extended thus, in this obscene abode 

They leave the beast ■ but first sweet flow'rs are strow'd 

Beneath his body, broken boughs and thyme, 

And pleasing cassia just renew'd in prime. 

This must be done ere spring makes equal day, 

When western winds on curling waters play: 

Ere painted meads produce their flow'ry crops, 

Or swallows twitter on the chimney tops. 

The tainted blood, in this close prison pent, 

Begins to boil, and through the bones ferment. 

Then (wond'rous to behold) new creatures rise, 

A moving mass at first, and short of thighs ; 

Ti? shooting out with legs, and imp'd with wings, 

The grubs proceed to bees with pointed stings, 

And, more and more affecting air, they try 

Their tender pinions, and begin to fly: 

At length, like summer storms from spreading clouds, 

That burst at once, and pour impetuous floods — 

Or flights of arrows from the Parthian bows, 

When from afar they gall embattled foes — 

With such a tempest through the skies they steer; 

And such a form the winged squadrons bear. 

What god, O Muse ! this useful science taught ? 
Or by what man's experience was it brought ? 

Sad \ristceus from fair Tempe fled — 
His bees with famine or diseases dead : — 
On Peneus 1 banks he stood, and near his holy head ; 



142 GEOttGIC IV. 

And, while his falling tears the stream supply'd, 

Thus, mourning to his mother goddess cried: 

" Mother Cyrene ! mother, whose abode 

Is in the depth of this immortal flood ! 

What boots it, that from Phoebus' loins I spring 

The third, by him and thee, from heavVs high king? 

O ! where is all thy boasted pity gone, 

And promise of the skies to thy deluded son ? 

Why didst thou me, unhappy me, create, 

Odious to gods, and borne to bitter fate ? 

Whom scarce my sheep, and scarce my painful plough, 

The needful aids of human life allow : 

So wretched is thy son, so hard a mother thou ! 

Proceed, inhuman parent, in thy scorn ; 

Root up my trees ; with blights destroy my corn ; 

My vineyards ruin, and my sheepfolds burn. 

Let loose thy rage, let all thy spite be shown ; 

Since thus thy hate pursues the praises of thy son." 

But, from her mossy now'* below the ground, 

His careful mother heard the plaintive sound — 

Encompass'd with her sea-green sisters round. 

One common work they ply'd ; their distaffs full 

With carded locks of blue Milesian wool. 

Spio, with Drymo brown, and Xantho fair, 

Add sweet Phyllodoce with long dishevell'd hair, 

Cydippe with Lycorias, one a maid, 

And one that once had call'd Lucina's aid 

Clio and Beroe, from one father both ; 

Both girt with gold, and clad in particoloured cloth \ 

Opis the meek, and Deiopeia proud ; 

Nissea lofty, with Ligea loud ; 

Thalia joyous, Ephyre the sad, 

And Arethusa, once Diana's maid, 

But now (her quiver left) to love betray'd 

To these Clymene the sweet theft declares 

Of Mars ; and Vulcan's unavailing cares ; 

And all the rapes of gods, and evry love, 

From ancient Chaos down to youthful Jove: 



GEORGIC IV. 143 

Thus while she sings, the sisters turn the wheel, 
Empty the woolly rack, and fill the reel. 
A mournful sound again the mother hears ; 
Again the mournful sound invades the sisters* ears. 
Starting at once from their green seats, they rise — 
Fear in their heart, amazement in their eyes. 
But Arethusa, leaping from her bed, 
First lifts above the waves her beauteous head, 
And, crying from afar, thus to Cyrene said: 
" O sister, not with causeless fear possest ! 
No stranger voice disturbs thy tender breast, 
'Tis Aristaeus, 'tis thy darling son, 
Who to his careless mother makes his moan. 
Near his paternal stream he sadly stands, 
With downcast eyes, wet cheeks, and folded hands. 
Upbraiding heav'n from whence his lineage came, 
And cruel calls the gods, and cruel thee, by name." 

Cyrene, mov'd with love, and seiz'd with feai, 
Cries out, " Conduct my son, conduct him here : 
'Tis lawful for the youth, deriv'd from gods, 
To view the secrets of our deep abodes." 
At once she wav'd her hand on either side; 
At once the ranks of swelling streams divide. 
Two rising heaps of liquid crystal stand, 
And leave a space betwixt, of empty sand. 
Thus safe received, the downward track he treads, 
Which to his mother's wat'ry palace leads. 
With vvond'ring eyes he views the secret store 
Of lakes, that, pent in hollow caverns, roar; 
He hears the crackling sounds of coral woods, 
And sees the secret source of subterranean floods ; 
And where, distinguish'd in their sev'ral cells, 
The fount of Phasis, and of Lycus, dwells ; 
Where swift Enipeus in his bed appears, 
AndTyber his majestic forehead rears; 
Whence Anio flows, and Hypanis profound 
Breaks thro' th' opposing rocks with raging sound ; 



144 GEORGIC IV. 

Where Po first issues from his dark abodes, 
Aim!, awful in his cradle, rules the floods: 
Two golden horns on his large front he wears, 
And his grim face a bull's resemblance bears. 
With rapid course he seeks the sacred main, 
And fattens, as he runs, the fruitful plain. 

Now, to the court arriv'd, th' admiring son 
J'eholds the vaulted roofs of pory stone, 
IS'ow to his mother goddess tells his grief, 
Which she with pity hears, and promises relief. 
Th' officious nymphs, attending in a ring, 
With water drawn from their perpetual spring, 
From earthly dregs his body purify, 
And rub his temples, with fine towels, dry ; 
Then load the tables with a lib'ral feast, 
And honour with full bowls their friendly guest. 
The sacred altars are involv'd in smoke j 
And the bright choir their kindred gods invoke. 
Two bowls the mother fills with Lydian wine ; 
Then thus : ''Let these be pour'd, with rites divine, 
To the great authors of our wat'ry line — 
To father Ocean, this, and this," she said. 
' ' He to the nymphs his sacred sisters paid, 
Who rule the wat'ry plains, and hold the woodland 

shade." 
She sprinkled thrice, with wine, the Vestal-fire ; 
Thrice to the vaulted roof the flames aspire. 
Rais'd with so blest an omen, she begun, 
With words like these to cheer her drooping son. 
" In the Carpathian bottom makes abode 
The shepherd of the seas, a prophet and a god. 
High o'er the main in wat'ry pomp he rides, 
His azure car and finny coursers guides — 
Proteus his name. — To his Pailenian port 
I see from far the weary god resort. 
Him, not a.lone, we river gods adore, 
Hut aged Nereus hearkens to his lore. 



3EORGIC IV. IIS 

W'ilh sure foresight, and with unerring doom, 
He sees what is, and was, and is to come. 
This Neptune gave him, when he gave to keep 
His scaly flocks, that graze the wat'ry deep. 
Implore his aid ; for Proteus only knows 
The secret cause, and cure, of all thy woes. 
But first the wily wizard must be caught ; 
For, unconstrain'd, he nothing tells f-r nought; 
Nor is with pray'rs, or bribes, Gr flattery bought 
Surprise him first, and with hard fetters binu^; 
Then all his frauds will vanish into wind. 
I will myself conduct thee on thy way, 
When next the southing sun inflames the day, 
When the dry herbage thirsts for dews in vain, 
And sheep, in shades, avoid the parching plain; 
Then will I lead thee to his secret seat, 
When, weary with his toil, and scorch'd with heat* 
The wayward sire frequents his cool retreat 
His eyes with heavy slumber overcast — 
With force invade his limbs, and bind him fast 
Thus surely bound, yet be not over bold: 
The slipp'ry god will try to loose his hold. 
And various forms assume, to cheat thy sight, 
And with vain images of beasts affright ; 
With foamy tusks, he seems a bristly boar, 
Or imitates the lion's angry roar ; 
Breaks out in crackling flames to shun thy si.ares, 
Hisses a dragon, or a tiger stares ; 
Or with a wile thy caution to betray, 
In fleeting streams attempts to slide away. 
But thou, the more he varies forms, beware 
To strain his tetters with a hinder care, 
Till, tirincr all his arts, lie turns a«?ani 
To his true shape, in which lie first was seen-' 
This said,, with nectar she her son anoints ; 
Infusing vigour through his mortal joints: 
Down from his head the liquid odours ran ; 
He breath'd of heav'n, and look'd above a man. 
vol. i. 10 



146 GEORGIC IV. 

Within a mountain's hollow womb, there lies 
A large recess conceal'd from human eyes, 
Where heaps of billows, driv'n by wind and tide, 
In form of war their wat'ry ranks divide, 
And there like centries set, without the mouth abide 
A station safe for shins, when tempests roar, 
A silent harbour, and a cover' d shore. 
Secure within resides the various god, 
And draws a rock upon his dark abode. 
Hither witji silent steps, secure from sight, 
The goddess guides her son, and turns him from the 

light: 
Herself, involved in clouds, precipitates her flight. 

'Twas noon ; the sultry Dog-star from the sky 
Scorch'd Indian swains; the rivel'd grass was dry; 
The sun with flaming arrows pierc'o the flood, 
And, darting to the bottom, bak'd the mud ; 
When weary Proteus, from the briny waves, 
Retired for shelter to his wonted caves. 
His finny flocks about their shepherd play, 
And, rolling round him spurt the bitter sea: 
I'll wield ily they wallow lirst in ooze, 
Then in the shady covert seek repose. 
Himself, their herdsman, on the middle mount, 
Takes of his muster'd flocks a just account. 
So, seated on a rock, a shepherd's groom 
Surveys his evening flocks returning home, 
When lowing calves and bleating lambs, from far, 
Provoke the prowling wolf to nightly war. 
Th' occasion offers, and the youth complies ; 
For scarce the weary god had clos'd his eyes, 
When, rushing on with shouts, he binds in chains 
The drowsy prophet, and his limbs constrains. 
He, not unmindful of his usoal art, 
First in dissembled fire attempts to part: 
Then roaring beasts, aivcl running streams he tries 
And wearies all his miracles of lies. 



GEORGIC IV. 147 

But, having shifted ev'ryform to 'scape, 

Convinced of conquest, he resum'd his shape, 

And thus, at length, in human accent spoke: 

" Audacious youth ! what madness could provoke 

A mortal man t' invade a sleeping god ? 

What bus'ness brought thee to my dark abode?" 

To this th' audacious youth : " Thou know'fct full well 

My name and bus'ness, god ; nor need I telL 

x\o man can Proteus cheat: but, Proteus, leave 

Thy fiaudful arts, and do not thou deceive. 

Following the gods' command I come t' implore 

Thy help, my perish'd people to restore." 

The seer, who could not yet his wrath assuage, 

Roll'd his green eyes, that sparkled with his rage, 

And gnash'd his teeth, and cried, " no vulgar god 

Pursues thy crimes, nor with a common rod. 

Thy great misdeeds have met a due reward, 

And Orpheus' dying prayers at length are heard. 

For crimes, not his, the lover lost his life, 

And at thy hands requires his murder'd wife : 

Nor (if the Fates assist not) canst thou 'scape 

The just revenge of that intended rape. 

To shun thy lawless lust the dying bride, 

Unwary, took along the river's side, 

Nor at her heels perceiv'd the deadly snake, 

That kept the bank, in covert of the brake. 

But all her fellow-nymphs the mountains tear 

With loud laments, and break the yielding air: 

The realms of Mars remurmur all around, 

And echoes to th' Athenian shores rebound. 

Th' unhappy husband, husband now no more, 

Did on his tuneful harp his loss deplore 

And sought his mournful mind with music to restore 

On thee, dear wife, in deserts all alone, 

He call'd, sigh'd, sung : his griefs with day begun, 

Nor were they finish' d with the setting sun, 



148 GLOftOIC IV. 

E'en to the dark dominions of the night 

He took his way, through forests void of light, 

And dar'd amidst the trembling ghosts to sing, 

And stocd before th' inexorable king 

TV infernal troops like passing shadows glide, 

And, list'ning, crowd the sweet musician's side— 

(Not flocks ot birds when driven by storms or night, 

Stretch to the forest with so thick a flight—-) 

Men, matrons, children, and th' unmarried maid, 

The mighty hero's more majestic shade, 

And youths on funeral piles before their parents laid. 

All these Cocytus bounds with squalid reeds, 

With muddy ditches, and with deadly weeds; 

And baleful Styx encompasses around, 

With nine slow circling streams, th' unhappy ground 

E'en from the depths of hell the damn'd advance; 

Th' infernal mansions, nodding seem to dance; 

The gaping three-mouthed dog forgets to snarl: 

The Furies hearken, and their snakes uncurl; 

Ixion seems no more his pain to feel. 

But leans attentive on his standing wheel. 

All dangers past, at length the lovely bride 

In safety goes, with her melodious guide, 

Longing the common light again to share, 

And draw the vital breath of upper air — 

He first ; and close behind him follow'd she ; 

For such was Proserpine's severe decree — 

When strong desires th' impatient youth invade, 

By little caution and much love betray'd : 

A fauJt, which easy pardon might receive, 

Were lovers judges, or could hell forgive ; 

For, near the confines of etherial light, 

And longing for the glimm'ring of a sight, 

J V unwary lover casts his eyes behind, 

Forgetful of the law nor master of his mind. 

Straight all his hopes exhal'd in empty smoke ; 

And his long toils were forfeit for a look. 



GEORGIC IV. 149 

Three flashes of blue lightning gave the sign 

Of covenants broke ; three peals of thunder join. 

Then thus the bride : * \\ hat fury seiz'd on thee, 

Unhappy man ! to lose thyself and me ? 

Dragg'd back again by cruel destinies, 

An iron slumber shuts my swimming eyes. 

And now farewell! involv'd in shades of night, 

For ever I am ravish'd from thy sight. 

In vain I reach my feeble hands, to join 

In sweet embraces — ah ! no longer thine P 

She said ; and from his eyes the fleeting fair 

Retir'd like subtle smoke dissolved in air, 

And left the hopeless lover in despair. 

In vain, with folding arms, the youth essay'd 

To stop her flight, and strain the flying shade : 

He prays ; he raves ; all means in vain he tries, 

With rage inflam'd, astonish'd with surprise : 

But she leturn'd no more, to bless his longing eyes. 

Nor would th' infernal ferrymen once more, 

Be bnb'd to waft him to the farther shore. 

What should he do, who twice had lost his love? 

What notes invent ? what new petitions move ? 

Her soul already was consign'd to fate, 

And shiv'ring in the leaky sculler sate. 

For sev'n continu'd months, if fame say true, 

The wretched swain his sorrow did renew : 

By Stryman's freezing streams he sat alone: 

The rocks were mov'd to pity with his moan : 

Trees bent their heads to hear him sing his wrongs: 

Fierce tigers coueh'd around, and lolPd their fawning 

tongues. 
So, close in poplar shades, her children gone, 
The mother nightingale laments alone, 
Whose nest some prying churl had found, and thence* 
By stealth, convey'd th' un feat her' d innocence. 
But she supplies the night with mournful strains; 
And melancholy music fills the plains. 



150 GEORGIC IV. 

.Sad Orpheus thus his tedious hours employs, 

Averse from Venus, and from nuptial joys. 

Alone he tempts the frozen floods, alone 

Th' unhappy climes, where spring was never known ; 

He mourn'd his wretched wife, in vain restored, 

And Pluto's unavailing boon deplor'd. 

The Thracian matrons — who the youth accus'd 

Of love disdain'd, and marriage rites refus'd — 

With furies and nocturnal orgies fir'd, 

At length against his sacred life conspir'd. 

Whom e'en the savage beasts had spar'd, they kill'd, 

And strew'd his mangled limbs about the field. 

Then, when his head, from his fair shoulders torn, 

Wash'd by the waters, was on Hebrus borne, 

E'en then his trembling tongue invok'd his bride ; 

With his last voice, « Eurydice,' he cried. 

'Eurydice,' the rocks and river-banks replied." 

This answer Proteus gave; no more he said, 
But in the billows plung'd his hoary head ; 
And, where he leap'd, the waves in circles widely 
spread. 

The nymph return'd her drooping son to cheer, 
And bid him banish his superfluous fear: 
" For now," said she, m the cause is known, from whence 
Thy wo succeeded, and for what offence 
The nymphs, companions of th' unhappy maid, 
This punishment upon thy crimes have laid ; 
And sent a plague among thy thriving bees. 
With vows and suppliant pray'rs their pow'rs appease; 
The soft Napsean race will soon repent 
Their anger, and remit the punishment. 
The secret in an easy method lies ; 
Select four brawny bulls for sacrifice, 
Which on Lycieus graze without a guide; 
Add four fair heifers yet in yoke untried, 
For these, four altars in their temple rear, 
And then adore the woodland pow'rs with pray'r. 



GEORGIC IV- 151 

From the slain victims pour the streaming blood, 

And leave their bodies in the shady wood: 

Nine mornings thence, L thiean poppy bring, 

T" appease the manes of the poet's king : 

And, to propitiate his offended bride, 

A fatted calf and a black ewe provide: 

This finish'd, to the former woods repair." 

His mothers precepts he performs with care ; 

The temple visits, and adores with pray'r; 

Four altars raises ; from his herd he culls, 

For slaughter, four the fairest of his bulls : 

Four heifers from his female store he took, 

All fair, and all unknowing of the yok^, 

Nine mornings thence, with sacrifice and piay'rs, 

The pow'rs aton'd, he to the grove repairs. 

Behold a prodigy! for, from within 

The broken bowels and the bloated skin, 

A buzzing noise of bees his ears alarms: 

Straight issue through the sides assembling swarms. 

Dark as a cloud, they make a wheeling flight, 

Then on a neighb'ringtree, descending, light: 

Like a large cluster of black grapes they show, 

And make a large dependance from the bough. 

Thus have I sung of fields, and flocks, and trees, 
And of the waxen work of lab'ring bees : 
While mighty Caesar, thund'ring from afar, 
Seeks on Euphrates' banks the spoils of war ; 
With conq'ring arts asserts his country's cause, 
With arts of peace the willing people draws ; 
On the glad earth the golden age renews, 
And his great father's path to heav'n pursues $ 
While I at Naples pass my peaceful days, 
Affecting studies of less noisy praise ; 
And, bold through youth, beneath the beechen shade, 
The lays of shepherds, and their loves have plav'd. 



;E N E i S. 



BOOK I. 



ARGUMENT. 

The Trojans, after a seven years* voyage, set sail for Italy, but 
are overtaken by a dreadful storm, which i£olus raises at the 
request of Juno. The tempest sinks one, and scatters the 
rest. Neptune drives off the winds, and calms the sea. /Kneas, 
with his own ship and six more, arrives safe at an African port. 
Venus complains to Jupiter of her son's misfortunes. Jupi- 
ter comforts her, and sends Mercury to procure him a kind re- 
ception among- the Carthaginians. Apneas, going out to dis- 
cover the country, meets his mother in the shape of a hun 
tress, who conveys him in a cloud to Carthage, where he sees 
his friends whom he thought lost, and receives a kind enter- 
tainment from the queen. Dido, by a device of Venus, be- 
gins to have a passion for him, and, after some discourse with 
him, desires the history of his adventures since the siege of 
Troy, which is the subject of the two following books. 



A RMS, and the man I sing, who, fore'd by Fate, 

And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate, 

Expell'd and exil'd, left the Trojan she re. 

Long labours, both by sea and land, he bore, 

And in the doubtful war, before he won 

The Latian realm, and built the destin'd town ; 

His banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine, 

And settled sure succession in his line, 

From whence the race of Alban fathers come, 

And the long glories of majestic Rome. 



154 JENKIS. 

O Muse ! the causes and the crimes relate ; 
What goddess was provok'd, and whence her hate 
For what offence the queen of heav'n began 
To persecute so brave, so just a man. 
Involv'd his anxious life in endless cares, 
Expos'd to wants, and hurried into wars ! 
Can heav'nly minds such high resentment show, 
Or exercise their spite in human wo ? 

Against theTybers mouth, but far away 
An ancient town was seated on the sea — 
A Tynan colony — the people made 
Stout tor the war, and studious of their trade: 
Carthage the name — belov'd by Juno more 
Thau her own Argos, or the Saurian shore. 
Here stood her chariot ; here if heav'n were kina 
The seat of awful empire she design'd. 
Yet she had heard an ancient rumour fly, 
(L(^ig cited by the people of the sky) 
That times to come should see the Trojan race 
Her Carthage ruin, and her tow'rs deface ; 
i\or thus conrin'd, the yoke of sovereign sway 
Should on the necks of all the nations lay. 
She ponder'd this, and fear'd it was in fate ; 
Nor could forget the war she wag'd of late, 
For conqu'ring Greece, against the Trojan state. 
Besides, long causes working in her mind, 
And secret seeds of envy, lay behind: 
Deep graven in her heart, the doom remain'd 
Of partial Paris, and her form disdain'd ; 
The grace bestow'd on ravish'd Ganymed, 
Electra's glories, and her injur'd bed. 
Each was a cause alone ; and all combin'd ; 
To kindle vengeance in her haughty mind. 
For this, far distant from the Latian coast, 
She drove the remnants of the Trojan host: 
And sev'n long years th' unhappy wand'ring train 
Were toss'd by storms, and scatter'd thro' the main. 



jENEIS. 155 

Such time, such toil, requir'd the Roman name, 
Such length of labour for so vast a frame. 

Now scarce the Trojan fleet, with sails and oars, 
Had left behind the fair Sicilian shores, 
Entering with cheerful shouts the wat'ry reign, 
And ploughing. frothy furrows in the main; 
When, lab'ring still with endless discontent, 
The queen of heav'n did thus her fury vent — 

" Then am I vanquish'd . p must 1 yield ?*•' said she : 
" And must the Trojans reign in Italy ? 
So fate will have it ; and Jove adds his force ; 
Nor can my pow'r divert their happy course. 
Could angry Pallas, with revengeful spleen, 
The Grecian navy burn, and drown the men ? 
She, for the fault of one offending foe, 
The bolts of Jove himself presum'd to throw ; 
With whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the ship, 
And bare expos'd the bosom of the deep : 
Then — as an eagle gripes the trembling game — 
The wretch, yet hissing with her father's flame, 
She stiongly seiz'd, and, with a burning wound 
Transfix'd, and naked, on a rock she bound. 
But I, who walk in awful state above, 
The majesty of heav'n, tire sister-wife of Jove, 
For length of years my fruitless force employ 
Against the thin remains of rum'd Troy ! 
What nations now to Juno's pow'r will pray, 
Or off 'rings on my slighted altars lay ?" 

Thus rag'd the goddess ; and with fury fraught, 
The restless regions of the storms she sought, 
Where, in a spacious cave of living stone, 
The tyrant ^Eolus, from his airy throne, 
With pow'r imperial curbs the struggling winds, 
And sounding tempests in dark prisons binds. 
This way, and that, th' impatient captives tend, 
A^d, pressing for release, the mountains rend. 
High in his hall tlv undaunted monarch stands, 
And shakes his sceptre, and their rage commands; 



156 JENEIS; 

Whicn he did not, their unresisted sway 
Would sweep the world before them m their way ; 
Earth, air, and seas, thro' empty space would roll, 
And heav'n would fly before the driving soul. 
In fear of this, the father of the gods 
Confin'd their fury to those dark abodes, 
And lock'd them safe within, oppress'd with moun- 
tain loads ; 
Impos'ri a king with arbitrary sway, 
To loose their fetters, or their force allay ; 
To whom the suppliant queen her pray'rs addrcssM 
And thus the tenor of her suit expressed, 
•» O, iEolus ! — for to thee the king of heav'n 
The pow'r of tempests and of winds hasgiv'n; 
Thy force alone their fury can restrain, 
And smoothe the waves, or swell the troubled main — 
A race of wand'ring slaves, abhor'd by me 
With prosperous passage cut the Tuscan sea : 
To fruitful Italy their course they steer, 
And, for their vanquished gods, design new temples theri 
Raise all thy winds, with night involve the skies; 
Sink or disperse my fatal enemies. — 

Twice sev'n, the charming daughters of the main, 
" Around my person wait, and bear my train :" 
Succeed my wish, and second my design, 
The fairest, Deiopeia, shall be thine, 
And make thee father of a happy line." 

To this the god — " 'Tis yours, O queen ! to will 
The work, which duty binds me to fulfil. 
These airy kingdoms, and this wide command, 
Are all the presents of your bounteous hand : 
Yours is my sovereign's grace ; and, as your guest, 
I sit with gods at their celestial feast. 
Raise tempests at your pleasure, or subdue ; 
Disp se of empire, which 1 hold from you." 

He said, and hurl'd against the mountain side 
His qu iv 'ring spear, and all the god applied. 



jENEIS. 157 

The raging *V ds rush through the hollow wound, 
And dance aloft :n air, and skim along the ground ; 
Then settling on the sea, the surges sweep, 
Raise liquid mountains, and disclose the deep. 
South, east, and west, with mix'd confusion roar, 
And roll the foaming billows to the shore. 
The cables crack ; the sailors fearful cries 
Ascend ; and sable night involves the skies ; 
And heav'n itself is ravish'd from their eyes. 
Loud peals of thunder from the poles ensue; 
Then flashing fires the transient light renew ; 
The face of things a frightful image bears ; 
And present death in various forms appears. 
Struck with unusual fright, the Trojan chief, 
With lifted hands and eyes, invokes relief; 
And "Thrice and four times happy those," he cried, 
M That under Ilian walls, before their parents, died ! 
Ty dides, bravest of the Grecian train ! 
Why could not I by that strong arm be slain, 
And lie by noble Hector on the plain, 
Or great Sarpedon, in those bloody fields, 
Where Simois rolls the bodies and the shields 
Of heroes, whose dismembered hands yet bear 
Tne dart aloft, and clench the pointed spear ? 

Thus, while the pious prince his fate bewails. 
Fierce Boreas drove against his flying sails, 
And rent the sheets: the raging billows rise, 
And mount the tossing vessel to the skies: 
Nor can the shivering oars sustain th'_ blow ; 
The galley gives her side, and turns her prow ; 
While those astern, descending down the steep, 
Through gaping waves behold the boiling deep. 
Three ships were hurried by the southern blast, 
And on the secret shelves with fury cast, 
Those Hidden rocks th' Ausonian sailors knew ; 
They calPd them altars, when they rose in view, 
And show'd their spacious backs above the flood. 
Tare more fierce Eurus, in his angry mood, 



Dash'd on the shallows of the moving sand, 

And in the mid ocean left tnem moor'd a land 

Orontes' bark, that bore the Lycian crew, 

(A horrid sight) e'en in the hero's view, 

From stem to stern by waves was overborne : 

The trembling pilot, from his rudder torn, 

Was headlong hurPd : thrice round the ship was toss'd, 

Then bulg'ri at once, and in the deep was lost ; 

And here and there above the waves were seen 

Arms, pictures, precious goods, and floating men. 

The stoutest vessel to the storm gave way, 

And suck'd thro' loosened planks the rushing sea. 

Ilioneus was her chief; Aletes old, 

Achates faithful, Abas young and bold, 

Endur'd not less: their ships with gaping seams, 

Admit the deluge of the briny streams. 

Meantime imperial Neptune heard the sound 
Of raging billows breaking on the ground. 
Displeas'd, and fearing for his wat'ry reign, 
He rear'd his awful head above the main, 
•Serene in majesty, — then roll'd bis eyes 
Around the space of earth, and seas, and skies. 
He saw the Trojan fleet dispersed, distressed, 
By stormy winds and wint'iy heav'n oppressed. 
Full well the god his sister's envy knew, 
And what her aims and what her arts pursue. 
He summoned Eurus and the Western blast, 
And first an angry glance on both he cast, 
Then thus rebuk'd — " Audacious winds ! from whence 
This bold attempt, this rebel insolence ! 
Is it for you to ravage seas and land, 
Unauthorized by my supreme command ? 
To raise such mountains on the troubled main ? 
W r hom I— but first 'tis fit the billows to restrain : 
And then you shall be taught obedience to my reign. 
Hence, to your lord my royal mandate bear — 
The realms of ocean and the fields of air 



iENElS. 169 

Are mine, not his. By fatal lot to me 

The liquid empire fell, and trident of the sea. 

His pow'r to hollow caverns is confinM: 

There let him rejgn, the jailor of the wind, 

With hoarse commands his breathing subjects call, 

And boast and bluster in his empty hall." 

He spoke, and while he spoke, he smooth'd the sea, 

Dispelled the darkness and restored the day. 

Cymothoe, Triton, and the sea-green train 

Of beauteous nymphs, the daughters of the main, 

Clear from the rocks the vessels with their hands : 

The god hh- self with ready trident stands, 

And opes the deep, and spreads the moving sands; 

Then heaves them off the shoals. — Where'er he 

guides 
His finny coursers, and in triumph rides, 
The waves unruffle, and the sea subsides. 
As when in tumults rise th' ignoble crowd, 
Mad are their motions, and their tongues are loud ; 
And stones and brands in rattling volleys fly, 
And all the rustic arms that fury can supply: 
If then some grave and pious man appear, 
They hush their noise, and lend a list'ning car: 
He soothes with sober words their angry mood, 
And quenches their innate desire of blood : 
So, when the father of the flood appears, 
And o'er the seas his sov'reign trident rears, 
Their fury fan's: he skims the liquid plains, 
High on his chariot, and, with loosen'd reins, 
Majestic moves along, and awful peace maintains. 
The weary Trojans ply their shattered oars 
To nearest land, and make the Libyan shores. 

Within a long recess there lies a bay: 
An island shades it from the rolling sea, 
And forms a port secure for ships to ride: 
Broke by the jutting land on either side, 
In double streams the brinv waters glide, 



160 ^neis. 

I tiiwixt two rows of rocks: a sylvan scene 

Appears above, and groves for ever green : 

A grot is lorm'd beneath, with mossy seats, 

I o rest the JNereTds, and exclude the heats. 

Down through the crannies of the living walls, 

The crybiai streams descend in murm'ring falls. 

No haisers need to bind the vessels here, 

Nor bearded anchors ; for no storms they fear. 

•Sev'n ships within this happy harbour meet, 

The thin remainders of the scatter'd fleet, 

The Trojans, worn with toils, and spent with woes, 

Leap on the welcom'd land, and seek their wish'd repose 

First, good Achates, with repeated strokes 

Of clashing flints, their hidden fires provokes 

Short flame succeeds: a bed of withered leaves 

The dying sparkles in their fall receives: 

Caught into life, in fiery fumes they rise, 

And, fed with stronger food, invade the skies. 

The Trojans, dropping wet, or stand around 

The cheerful blaze, or lie along the ground. 

Some dry their corn, infected with the brine, 

Then grind with marbles, and prepare to dine. 

iEneas climbs the mountain's airy brow, 

And takes a prospect of the seas below, 

If Capys thence, or Antheus, he could spy, 

Or see the streamers of Cai'cus fly. 

No vessels were in view, but on the plain, 

Three beamy stags command a lordly train 

Of branching heads : the more ignoble throng 

Attend their stately steps, and slowly graze along. 

He stood ; and while secure they fed below, 

He took the quiver and the trusty bow 

Achates us'd to bear: the leaders first 

He laid along, and then the vulgar piere'd ; 

Nor ceas'd his arrows, till the shady plain 

Sev'n mighty bodies with their olood distain. 

For the sev'n ships, he made an equal share, 

And to the port return'd triumphant from the war. 



JENEIS. 161 

The jaisuf gen'rous wine (Acestcs' gift, 

When his Trinacrian shores the navy left) 

He set abroach, and for the feast prepar'd, 

in equal portions with the ven'soi: shar'd. 

Thus while he deaJt it round, the pious chiei 

With cheerful words allay'd the common grief.— 

1 'I ldure, and conquer ! Jove will soon dispose, 

To future good, our past and present woes. 

W ith me, the rocks of Scylla you have tried ; 

r J h' inhuman Cyclops, and his den defied. 

What greater ills hereafter can you bear? 

Resume your courage, and dismiss your care. 

An hour will come, with pleasure to relate 

Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate. 

Through various hazards and events, we move 

To La Hum, and the realms foredoom'd by Jove. 

Call'ci to the seat (the promise of the skies) 

Where Trojan kingdoms once again may rise, 

Endure the hardships of your present state ; 

Live, and reserve yourselves for better fate." 

Tliese words he spoke, but spoke not. from his heart; 

His outward smiles conceal'd his inward smart. 

The jolly crew, unmindful of the past, 

The quarry share, their plenteous dinner haste. 

Some strip the skin ; some portion out the spoil ; 

The limbs, yet trembling, in the caldrons boil; 

Some on the fire, the reeking entrails broil. 

Stretch'd on the grassy turf, at ease they dine, 

Restore their strength with meat, and cheer their sculg 

with wine, 
Tneir hunger thus appeas'd, their care attends 
The doubtful fortune of their absent friends: 
Alternate hopes and fears their minds possess, 
Whether to deem them dead or in distress. 
Above the rest, jEneas mourns the fate 
Of brave Orontes, and th' uncertain state 
Of Gyas, Lye us, and of Amycus. — 
The day, but not their sorrows, ended thus ; 

VOL. U 11 



162 JKNEJS. 

When, from aloft, almighty Jove surveys 

Earth, air, and shores, and navigable seas: 

At length on Libyan, realms lie fix'd his eyes-— 

Whom, pond'ring thus on human miseries, 

When Venus saw, she with a lowly look, 

Not free from tears, her heavmly sire bespoke:— » 

•* O king of gods and men ! whose awful hand 

Disperses thunder on the seas and land ; 

Disposes all with absolute command ; 

How could my pious son thy pow'r incense? 

Or what, alas! is vanish'd Troy's offence? 

Our hope of Italy not only lost, 

On various seas by various tempests toss'd, 

But shut from ev'ry shore, and barr'd from ev'ry 
coast. 

You promised once a progeny divine, 

Of Romans, rising from the Trojan line, 

In after-times should hold the world in awe 

And to the land and ocean give the law. 

How is your doom revers'd, which eas'd my care 
When Troy was ruin'd in that cruel war? 

Then fates to fates i could oppose: but now, 

When Fortune still pursues her former blow, 

What can 1 hope? W 7 hat worse can still fuccfcd? 

W mat end of labours has your will decreed ? 

Antenor, from the midst of Grecian^ hosts, 

Could pass secure, and pierce th 1 Illyriau coasts, 

Where rolling down the steep, Timavus raves, 

And through nine channels disembogues his waves. 

At length he founded Padua's happy seat, 

And gave his Trojans a secure retreat ; 

There fix'd their arms, and there renew'd their name, 

And there in quiet rules, and crown'd with fame 

But we, descended from your sacred line, 

Kntiiled to your heav'n, and rites divine, 

Are banish'd earth, and, for the wrath of one, 

Hemov'd from Latium, and the promis'd throne. 

Are these our sceptres ? these our due rewards? 

Anil is it thus that Jove his plighted faith regards?'' 



BOOK I. .ENEIS. 163 

To whom the father of th' immortal race, 
Smiling with that serene indulgent face, 
With which he drives the clouds and clears the skies, 
First gave a holy kiss ; then thus feplies — 
" Daughter, dismiss thy fears : to thy desire, 
The fates of thine are fix'd, and stand entire. 
Thou shalt behold thy wish'd Lavinian walls j 
And, ripe for heav'n, when Fate iEneas calls, 
Then shalt thou bear him up, sublime, to me : 
No counsels have revers'd my firm decree. 
And, lest new fears disturb thy happy state, 
Know, I have searched the mystic rolls of Fate : 
Thy son (nor is th 7 appointed season far) 
In Italy shall wage successful war*, 
Shall tame fierce nations in the bloody field, 
And sovereign laws impose, and cities build, 
Till, after ev'ry foe subdu'd, the sun 
Thrice though the signs his annual race shall run i 
This is his time prehVd. Ascanius then, 
Now call'd lulus, shall begin his reign, 
He thirty rolling years the crown shall wear, 
Then from Lavinium shall the seat transfer, 
And, with hard labour, Alba-longa build. — 
The throne with his succession shall be fill'd. 
Three hundred circuits more : than shall be seen 
Ilia, the fair, a priestess and a queen, 
Who, full of Mars, in time, with kindly throes, 
Shall at a birth two goodly boys disclose. 
The royal babes a tawny wolf shall drain : 
Then Romulus his grandsire's throne shall gam, 
Of martial tow'rs the founder shall become, 
The people Romans call, the city Rome. 
To them no bounds of empire I assign, 
Nor tenn of years to their immortal Lkie. 
E'en haughty Juno, who, with endless broils, 
Earth, seas, and heav'n, and Jove himself, turmoili 
At length aton'd, her friendly pow'r shall join, 
To cherish and advance the Trojan line. 



164 JCNF.IS. 

The subject world shall Rome's dominion own, 

And, prostrate, shall adore the nation of the gown 

An age is rip'ning in revolving fate, 

When Troy shall overturn the Grecian state, 

And sweet revenge her conqu'ring sons shall call, 

To crush the people that conspir'd her fall. 

Then Ccesar from the Julian stock shall rise, 

Whose empire ocean, and whose fame the skies, 

Alone shall bound; whom, fraught with eastern spoils, 

Our heav'n, the just reward of human toils, 

Securely shall repay with rites divine ; 

And incense snail ascend before his sacred shrine 

Then dire debate, and impious war, shall cease, 

And the stern age be soften'd into peace : 

Then banish'ri faith shall once again return, 

And vestal fires in hallow'd temples burn ; 

And Remus with Quirinus shall sustain 

The righteous laws, and fraud and force restrain. 

Janus himself before his fane shall wait, 

And keep the dreadful issues of his gate, 

With bolts and iron bars: within remains 

Imprison'd Fury, bound in brazen chains: 

High on a trophy rais'd, of useless arms, 

He sits, and threats the world with vain alarms." 

He said, and sent Cyllenius with command 
To free the ports, and ope the punic land 
To Trojan guests ; lest, ignorant of fate, 
The queen might force them from her town ana state. 
Down from the steep of heav'n Cyllenius flies, 
And cleaves with all his wings the yielding skies. 
Soon on the Libyan shore descends the god, 
Performs his message, and displays his rod. 
The surly murmurs of the people cease ; 
Av(]. as the Fates required, they give the peace. 
Tne queen herself suspends the rigid taws. 
The Trojans pity, and protect their cause. 

Meantime in shades of night iEneas lies: 
Caie seisi'u his soul, and sleep forsooK his eyes 



165 



Hut, when the sun restored the cheerful day, 

iie icse the coast and country to survey, 

Anxious and eager to discover more. — 

it look'd a wild uncultivated shore: 

But, whether human kind, or beasts alone, 

Possessed the new-found region, was unknown. 

Beneath a ledge of rocks his fleets he hides: 

Tall trees surround the mountain's shady sides: 

The bending brow above a safe retreat provides. 

Arrn'd with two pointed darts, he leaves his trends j 

And true Achates on his steps attends. 

Lo ! in the deep recesses of the wood, 

Before his eye his goddess mother stood — 

A huntress in her ha^it and her mien: 

Her dress a maid, her air confess'd a queen. 

Bare were her knees, and knots her garments bind ; 

Loose was her hair, and wantonM in the wind : 

Her hand sustain'd a bow: her quiver hung behind. 

She seem'd a virgin of the Spartan blood : 

With such array Harpalyce bestrode 

Her Thracian courser, and out-stripp'd the rapid 

flood. 
u Ho! strangers ! have you lately seen," she said, 
"One of my sisters, like myself array'd, 
Who cross' d the lawn, or in the forest stray'd ? 
A painted quiver at her back she bore ; 
Varied with spots, a lynx's hide sne wore ; 
And at full cry pursu'd the tusky boar." 

Thus Venus: thus her son replied again: 
" Xone of your sisters have we heard or seen 
virgin ! or what other name you bear 
Above that style — O, more than mortal fair. 
Your voice and mien celestial birth betray! 
If, as you seem, the sister of the day, 
Of one at least of chaste Diana's train, 
Let not a humble suppliant sue in vain: 
But tell a stranger long in tempests tost, 
What earth we tread, and who commands the coast? 



166 MEETS. 

Then on your names shall wretched nortals cail, 

And orTer'd victims at your altars fall." — 

44 1 dare not," she replied, assume the name 

Of goddess, or celestial honours claim : 

For Tyrian virgins bows and quivers bear, 

And purple buskins o'er their ankles wear. 

Know, gentle youth, in Libyan lands you are- 

A people rude in peace, and rough in war. 

The rising city, which from far you see, 

Is Carthage, and a Tyrian colony. 

1 hcenician Dido rules the growing state, 

Who fled from Tyre to shun her brother's hate. 

Great were her wrongs, her story full of fate ; 

Which 1 will sum in short. Sicrueua, known 

For wealth, and brother to the punic throne, 

Possess'd fair Dido's bed ; and either heart 

At. once was wounded with an equal dart. 

Her father gave her, yet a spotless maid ; 

Pygmalion then the Tyrian sceptre sway'd — 

One who contemn'd divine and human laws. 

Then strife ensu'd, and cursed gold the cause. 

The monarch, blinded with desire of wealth, 

With steel invades his brother's life by stealth; 

Before the sacred allar made him bleed, 

And long from her conceal'd the cruel deed. 

Some tale, some new pretence, he daily coin'd, 

To sooth his sister, and delude her mind. 

At length, in dead of night, the ghost appears, 

Of her unhappy lord : the spectre stares, 

And, with erected eyes, his bosom bares. 

The cruel altars, and his fate, he tells, 

And the dire secret of his house reveals, 

Then warns the widow, and her household gods, 

To seek a refuge in remote abodes. 

Last, to support her, in so long a way, 

Fie shows her where his hidden treasures lay. 

Admonish'd thus, and seiz'd with mortal fright, 

The queen provides companions of her flight • 



a:nei . 167 

They meet, and all combine to leave the s ate, 

Who hate the tyrant, or who fear his hate 

They seize a fleet, which ready rigg'd they find ; 

Nor is Pygmalion's treasure left behind. 

The vessels, heavy laden, put to sea 

With prosp'rous winds: a woman leads the way. 

i know not, if by stress of weather driv'n, 

Or wa.3 their fatal course dispos'd by heav'n ; 

At last they landed, where from far your eyes 

May view the turrets of new Carthage rise ; 

There bought a space of ground, which (Byrsa call'd 

From the bull's hide) they first enclos'd, and wall'd. 

But whence are you ? what country claims your birth ' 

What seek you, strangers on our Libyan earth?" 

To whom, with sorrow streaming from his eyes, 
And deeply sighing, thus her son replies: 
44 Could you with patience hear, or I relate, 
O nymph ! the tedious annals of our fate, 
Through such a train of woes if I should run, 
The day would sooner than the tale, be done. 
From ancient Troy, by force expell'd, we came- - 
If you by chance have heard the Trojan name. 
On various seas by various tempests toss'd, 
At length we landed on your Libyan coast. 
The good .Eneas am I call'd — a name, 
While Fortune favour'd, not unknown to fame. 
My household gods, companions of my woes, 
With pious care I rescu'd from our foes. 
To fruitful Italy my course was bent ; 
And from the king of heav'n is my descent. 
With twice ten sail I cross'd the Phrygian sea ; 
Fate and my mother goddess led my way. 
Scarce sev'n, the thin remainders of my fleet, 
Fiom storms pieserv'd, within your harbour meet. 
Myself distress'd, an exile, and unknown, 
Debarr'd from Europe, and from Asia thrown, 
in Libyan deserts wander thus alone." 



168 JE.KE19. 

;iis tender parent could no longer bear, 
Bui, interposing, sought to sooth his care. 
" Whoe'er you are — not unbelov'd by neav'n, 
Since on our friendly shore your ships are driv'n— 
Have courage: to the gods permit the rest, 
An-d to the queen expose your just request. 
Now take this earnest of success for more ; 
Your scatterM fleet is join'd upon the shore; 
The winds are changed, ) T our friends from danger free ; 
Or I renounce my skill in augury. 
Twelve swans behold in beauteous order move, 
And stoop with closing pinions from above; 
Whom late the bird of Jove had driv'n along, 
And through the clouds pursu'd the scattering throng 
Now all united in a goodly team, 
They skim the ground, and seek the quiet stream : 
As they, with joy returning, clap their wings, 
And ride the circuit of the skies in rings; 
Not otherwise your ships, and ev'ry friend, 
Already hold the port, or with swift sails descend. 
No more advice is needful, but pursue 
The path before you, and the town in view." 

Thus having said, she turn'd, and made appear 
Her neck refulgent, and dishevell'd hair, 
Which flowing from her shoulders reachVl the ground, 
And widely spread ambrosial scents around. 
In length of train descends her sweeping gown ; 
And, by her graceful walk, the queen of love is known. 
The prince pursu'd the parting deity 
With words like these: " Ah ! whither do you fly? 
Unkind and cruel ! to deceive your son 
In borrow'd shapes, and his embrace to shun ; 
Never to bless my sight, but thus unknown : 
And still to speak in accents not your own." 
Against the goddess these complaints he made, 
But took the path, and her commands obey'd. 
They march obscure; for Venus kindly shrouds, 
With mists, their persons, and involves in cloud*, 



JSNEIS. IBS 

That, thus unseen, their passage none might stay, 

Or force to tell the causes of their way. 

This part perfonn'd, the goddess files sublime, 

To visit Paphos, and her native clime, 

Where garlands, ever green and ever fair, 

With vows are offer'd, and with solemn pray'r. 

A hundred altars in her temple smoke : 

A thousand bleeding hearts her pow'r invoke. 

They climb the next ascent, and, looking down, 
Now at a nearer distance view the town. 
The prince with wonder, sees the stately tow'rs, 
(Which late were huts, and shepherds' homely fcow'rs) 
The gates and streets ; and hears, from ev'ry part, 
The noise and busy concourse of the mart. 
The toiling Tynans on each other call, 
To ply their labour : some extend the wall ; 
Some build the citadel ; the brawny throng 
Or dig, or push unwieldy stones along. 
Some for their dwellings choose a spot of ground, 
Which, first design'd, with ditches they surround. 
Some laws ordain ; and some attend the choice 
Of hcly senates, and elect by voice. 
Here some design a mole, while others there 
Lay deep foundations for a theatre, 
from marble quarries mighty columns hew, 
For ornaments of scenes, and future view. 
Such is their toil, and such their busy pains, 
As exercise the bees in flow'ry plains, 
"When winter past, and summer scarce begun, 
Invites them forth to labour in the sun : 
Some lead their youth abroad, while some condense 
Their liquid store, and some in cells dispense: 
Some at the gates stand ready to receive 
The golden burden, and their friends relieve % 
All, with united force, combine to drive 
The lazy drones, from the laborious hive: 
With envy stung, they view each other's deeds, 
The fragrant work with diligence proceeds. 



170 JSNEIS. 

" Thrice happy you, whose wall? already rise"' 

iF.neas said, and view'd, with lifted eyes, 

Their lofty tow'rs: then ent'ring at the gate, 

Coneeal'd in clouds, (prodigious to relate) 

He mix'd, unmark'd, among the busy throng, 

I orne by the tide, and pass'd unseen along. 

Full in the centre of the town there stood, 

Thick set with trees, a venerable wood : 

The Tyrians, landing near ti. is holy ground, 

And digging here, a prosp'rous omen found : 

From under earth a coursers head they drew, 

Their growth and future fortune to foreshow: 

This fated sign their foundress Juno gave, 

Of a soil fruitful, and a people brave. 

Sidohian Dido here with solemn state 

Did Juno's temple build, and consecrate, 

Knrich'd with gifts, and with a golden shrine, 

But more the goddess made the place divine. 

On brazen steps the marble threshold rose, 

And brazen plates the cedar beams enclose : 

The rafters are with brazen cov'rings crown'd ; 

The lofty doors on brazen hinges sound. 

What first Mneas in this place beheld, 

Reviv'd his courage, and his fear expell'd. 

For — while, expecting there the queen, he raisM 

His wondering eyes, and round the temple gaz'd, 

Admir'd the fortune of the rising town, 

The striving artists, and their arts' renown — 

He saw, in order painted on the wall, 

Whatever did unhappy Troy T befall — 

The wars that fame around the world had blown, 

All to the life, and ev'ry leader known. 

There Agamemnon, Priam here, he spies, 

And fierce Achilles, who both kings defies. 

He stcpp'd, and weeping said, "O friend ! e'en here 

The monuments of Trojan woes appear ! 

Our known disasters fill e'en foreign lands: 

See there, where old unhappy Priam stands ! 



JENETS. 171 

E'en the mute walls relate the warrior's fame, 
And Trojan griefs the Tynans' pity claim." 
He said — (his tears a ready passage rind) 
Devouring what he saw so well design'd, 
And with an empty picture fed his mind : 
For there he saw the fainting Grecians yield, 
And here the trembling Trojans quit the field, 
Pursu'd by fierce Achilles through the plain, 
On his high chariot driving o'er the slain. 
The tents of Rhesus next his grief renew, 
By their white sails betray'd to nightly view; 
And wakeful Diomede, whose cruel sword 
The sentries slew ; nor spar'd their slumb'ring lord. 
Then took the fiery steeds, e're yet the food 
Of Troy they taste, or drink the Xanthian flood. 
Elsewhere he saw where Troilus defied 
Achilles, and unequal combat tried; 
Then, where the boy disarm'd, with loosen'd reins, 
Was by his horses hurried o'er the plains, 
Hung by the neck and hair : and, dragg'd around, 
The hostile spsar, yet sticking in his wound, 
With tracks of blood inscrib'd the dusty ground. 
Meantime the Trojan dames, onpress'd with wo, 
To Pallas' fane in long procession go, 
In hopes to reconcile their heavenly foe: 
They weep; they beat their breasts; they rend their 

hair. 
And rich embroider'd vests for presents bear: 
But the stern goddess stands unmov'd with pray'r. 
Thrice round the Trojan walls Achilles drew 
The corpse of Hector, whom in fight he slew. 
Here Priam sues ; and there, for sums of gold, 
The lifeless body of his son he sold. 
So sad an object, and so well express'd, 
Drew sighs and groans from the griev'd hero's breast, 
To see the figure of his lifeless friend, 
And his old sire his helpless hands extend. 



172 JENfcllS. 

Himself he saw amidst the Grecian train, 

Mix'd in the bloody battle on the plain: 

And swarthy Memnon in his arms he knew, 

His pompous ensigns, and his Indian crew. 

Penthesilea there, with haughty grace, 

Leads to the wa-s an Amazonian race: 

In their right hands a pointed dart they wield ; 

The left, for ward, sustains the lunar shield. 

Athwart her breast a golden belt she throws, 

Amidst the press alone provokes a thousand foes, 

And dares her maiden arms to manly force oppose. 

Thus while the Trojan prince employs his eyes. 

Fix'd on the walls with wonder and surprise, 

The beauteous Dido, with a numerous train, 

And pomp of guards, ascends the sacred fane. 

Such on Eurotas' banks, orCynthus 1 height, 

Diana seems; and so she charms the sight, 

When in the dance the graceful goddess leads 

The choir of nymphs, and overtops their heads 

Known by her quiver, and her lofty mien, 

She walks majestic, and she looks their queen : 

Latonia sees her shine above the rest, 

And feeds with secret joy her silent breast. 

Such Dido was; with such becoming stale, 

Amidst the crowd she walks serenely great. 

Their labour to her future sway she speeds, 

And passing with a gracious glance proceeds* 

Then mounts the throne, high plac'd before the shrine. 

in crowds around, the swarming people join. 

She takes petitions, and dispenses law*, 

Hears and determines ev'ry private cause : 

Their task in equal portions she divides, 

And, where unequal, there by lot decides. 

Another waybychauce iEneas bends 

Flo eyes, and unexpected sees his friends, 

Antheus, Sergestus grave, Cloanthus strong, 

And at their backs a mighty Trojan throng, 



.ENEIS. 173 

Whom iate the tempest on the billows toss'd, 

And widely scatter'd on another coast. 

The prince, unseen, surpris'd with wonder stands, 

And longs, with joyful haste, to join their hands: 

But, doubtful of the wish'd event, he stays, 

And from the hollow cloud his friends surveys, 

impatient till they told their present state, 

And where they left their ships, and what their fate, 

And why they came, and what was their request- 

For these were sent, commissioned by the rest, 

To sue for leave to land their sickly men, 

And gain admission to the gracious queen. 

Em 1 ring, with cries they filPd the holy fane; 

Then thus, with lowly voice, Ilioneus began : 

11 O queen ! indulg'd by favour of the gods 

To found an empire m these new abodes ; 

To build a town : with statutes to restrain 

The wild inhabitants beneath thy reign — 

We wretched Trojans, toss'd on ev'ry shore, 

From sea to sea, thy clemency implore. 

Forbid the fires our shipping to deface; 

Receive th' unhappy fugitives to grace, 

And spare the remnant of a pious race ! 

We come not with design of wasteful prey, 

To drive the country, force the swains away: 

Nor such our strength, nor such is our desire ; 

The vanquish'd dare not to such thoughts aspire, 

A land there is, Hesperia nam'd of old — 

The soil is fruitful, and the men are bold — 

Th' (Enotrians held it once — by common fame, 

Now call'd Italia, from the leader's name. 

To that sweet region was our voyage bent, 

When winds, and every warring element, 

Disturb'd our course, and, far from sight of land, 

Cast our torn vessels on the moving sand : 

The sea came on ; the South with mighty roar, 

Dispers'd and dash'd the rest upon the rocky shore. 



174 £N£1S. 

Those few you see, escaped the storm, and fear, 

Unless you interpose, a shipwreck here. 

What men. what monsters, what inhuman race, 

What laws, what barbarous customs of the place, 

Shut up a desert shore to drowning men, 

And diive us to the cruel seas again ? 

if our hard fortune no compassion draws, 

Nor hospitable rights, nor human laws, 

The gods are just, and will revenge our cause. 

jEneas was our prince — a juster lord, 

Or nobler warrior, never drew a sword — 

Observant of the right, religious of his word. 

If yet he lives, and draws this vital air, 

Nor we his friends of safety shall despair, 

Nor you, great queen, these offices repent, 

Which he will equal, and perhaps augment. 

We want not cities, nor Sicilian coasts, 

Where king Ancestes Trojan lineage boasts. 

Permit our ships a shelter on your shores, 

Refitted from your woods with planks and oars 

That, if our prince be safe, we may renew 

Our destined course, and Italy pursue. 

Bit if, O best of men ! the Fates ordain 

That thou art swallow'd in the Libyan main, 

And if our young lulus be no more, 

Dismiss our navy from your friendly shore, 

That we to good Ancestes may return, 

And with our friends our common losses mouru 

Thus spoke Fioneus: the Trojan crew 

With cries and clamours his request renew. 

The modest queen awhile with downcast eyes, 

Ponder'd the speech, then briefly thus replies: 

44 Trojans! dismiss your fears: my cruel fate, 

And doubts attending an unsettled state, 

Force me to guard my coast from foreign foes. 

Who has not heard the story of your woes, 

The name and fortune of your native place, 

The fame and valour of the Phrygian race? 



M&EIS. 176 

We Tyrians are not so devoid of sense, 

Nor so remote from Phoebus' influence. 

Whether to Latian shores your course is bent, 

Or driv'n by tempests from your first intent, 

You seek the good Ancestes' government. 

Your men shall be receiv'd, your fleet repair'd, 

And sail, with ships of convoy for your guard : 

Or, would you stay, and join your friendly pow'rs 

To raise and to defend the Tynan tovv'rs, 

IViy wealth, my city, and myself, are yours. 

And would to heav'n, the storm you felt, would bring 

On Carthaginian coasts your wand'ring king. 

My people shall, by my command, explore, 

Th-» ports and creeks of ev'ry winding shore, 

And towns, and wilds, and shady woods, m quest 

Of so renown'd, and so desir'd a guest." 

Rais'd in his mind the Trojan hero stood, 
And long'd to break from out his ambient cloud: 
Achates found it, and thus urg'd his way : 
*• From whence, O goddess-born, this long delay? 
What more can you desire, your welcome sure, 
Your fleet in safety, and your friends secure ? 
One only wants ; and him we saw in vain 
Oppose the storm, and swallow'd in the main. 
Orontes in his fate our forfeit paid : 
The rest agrees w T ith what your mother said." 
Scarce had he spoken, when the cloud gave way, 
The mist flew upward, and dissolv'd m day. 
The Trojan chief appear' d in open sight, 
August in visage, and serenely bright. 
His mother goddess, with her hands divine, 
Had lbrm'd his curling locks and made his templet 

shine, 
And giv'n his rolling eyes a sparkling grace, 
And breath'a a youthful vigour on his face; 
Like polish'd iv'ry beauteous to behold, 
Or Parian marble, when enchas'd in gold 



176 JEXEIS. 

""bus radiant from the circling cloud he broke; 

And thus with manly modesty he spoke: 

'* He whom you seek am I ; by tempests toss'd, 

And sav'd from shipwreck on your Libyan coast; 

Presenting, gracious queen, before your throne, 

A prince that owes his life to you alone. 

Fair majesty! the refuge and redress 

Of those whom Fate pursues, and wants oppress! 

You, who your pious offices employ 

To save the relics of abandon'd Troy, 

Pxeceive the shipwreck'd on your friendly shore, 

With hospitable rights relieve the poor; 

Associate in your town a wandVmg train, 

And strangers in your palace entertain. 

What thanks can wretched fugitives return, 

Who scatter'd through the world, in exile mourn? 

The gods, (if gods to goodness are inclined — 

if acts of mercy touch their heavenly mind) 

And, more than all the gods, your gen'rous heart, 

Conscious of worth, requites its own desert! 

In you this age is happy, and this earth ; 

And parents more than mortal gave you birth. 

While rolling rivers into seas shall run, 

And round the space of heav'n the radiant sun ; 

While trees the mountain-tops with shades supply, 

Your honour, name, and praise, shall never die. 

VVhate'e abode my fortune has assigned, 

Vour image shall be present in my mind." 

Thus having said, he turn'd with pious haste, 

And joyful his expecting friends embraced : 

With his right hand Ilioneus was grae'd, 

Sergestes with the left ; then to his breast 

£loanthus and the noble Gyas pressM ; 

And so by turns, descended to the rest. 

The Tyrian queen stood fix'd upon his face 
Pleas'd with his motions, ravish'd with his gra< e; 
Adtnir'd his fortunes, more admir'd the man, 
Tnen recollected stood; and thus began: 



jgN&lSi. 177 

•« What fate, O goddess-born ! what angry pow'rs 
Have cast you shipwreck'd on our barren shores? 
Are you the great jEneas, known to fame, 
Who from celestial seed your lineage claim ? 
The same JEneas whom fair Venus bore 
To fam'd Anchises on th' ldaean shore ? 
It calls into my mind, though then a child, 
When Teucer came, from Salamis exil'd. 
And sought my father's aid, to be restor'd • 
My father Belus then with fire and sword 
Invaded Cyprus, made the region bare, 
And, conq'ring, finished the successful war. 
From him the Trojan siege I understood, 
The Grecian chiefs, and your illustrious blood. 
Your foe himself the Dardan valour prais'd, 
And his own ancestry from Trojans raised. 
Enter, my noble guest ! and you shall find, 
If not a costly welcome, yet a kind : 
For T myself, like you, have been distress'd, 
Till heav'n afforded me this place oi r^st. 
Like you, an alien in a land unknown, 
C learn to pity woes so like my own.*' 
She said, and to the palace led her guest, 
Then offer'd incense, and proclaimed a feast. 
Nor yet less careful for her absent friends, 
Twice ten fat oxen to the ships she sends: 
Besides a hundred boars, a hundred lambs, 
With bleating cries, attend their milky dams: 
And jars of gen'rous wine, and spacious bowls. 
She gives to cheer the sailers' drooping souls. 
Now purple hangings clothe the palace-walls 
And sumptuous feasts are made in splendid halls. 
On Tyrian carpets, richly wrought, they dine ; 
With loads of massy plate the sideboards shine f 
And antique vases, all of gold emboss'd, 
'The gold itself inferior to the cost 

VOL. I. 12 



178 JENEIS. 

Of curious work) where on the sides were seen 
The fights and figures ol illustrious men, 
From their first founder to the present queen. 

The good iEneas, whose paternal care 
lulus' absence could no longer bear, 
Despatch'd Achates to the ships in haste, 
To give a glad relation of the past, 
And, fraught with precious gifts, to bring the boy, 
Snatch'd from the ruins of unhappy Troy — 
A robe of tissue, stiff with golden wire; 
An upper vest, once Helen's rich attire, 
From Argos by the fam'd adultress brought, 
With golden flow'rsand winding foliage wrought— 
Her mother Leda's present, when she came 
To ruin Troy, and set the world on flame ; 
The sceptre Priam's eldest daughter bore, 
Her orient necklace, and the crown she wore 
Of double texture, glorious to behold ; 
One order set with gems, and one with gold. 
Instructed thus, the wise Achates goes, 
And, in his diligence, his duty shows. 

But Venus, anxious for her sons affairs, 
New counsels tries, and new designs prepares: 
That Cupid should assume the shape and face 
Of sweet Ascanius, and the sprightly grace ; 
Should bring the presents, in her nephew's stead, 
And in Eliza's veins the gentle poison shed : 
For much she fear'd the Tyrians, double tongu'd, 
And knew the town to Juno's care belong'd. 
These thoughts by night her golden slumbers broke 
And thus, alarm'd, to winged Love she spoke : 
" My son, my strength, whose mighty pow'r alone 
Controls the thuiid'rer on his awiui throne, 
To thee thy much afiiicted mother flies, 
And on thy succour and thy faith relies. 
Thou knowst, my son, how Jove's revengeful wife, 
By force and fraud, attempts thy brother's life . 



179 



And often hast thou mourn'd with me his pains. 
Him Dido now with blandishment detains; 
But I suspect the town where Juno reigns. 
For this, 'tis needful to prevent her art, 
And fire with love the proud Phoenician's heart — 
A love so violent, so strong, so sure, 
That neither age can change, nor art can cure. 
How this may be performed, now take my mind: 
Ascanius, by his father, is design 'd 
To come, with presents laden, from the port, 
To gratify the queen, and gain the court. 
I mean to plunge the boy in pleasing sleep, 
And, ravish'd, in Jdahan bow'rs to keep, 
Dr high Cythera, that the sweet deceit 
May pass unseen, and none prevent the cheat. 
Take thou his form and shape. 1 beg the grace, 
But only for a night's revolving space, 
Thyself a boy, assume a boy's dissembled face; 
That when, amidst the fervour of the feast, 
The Tyrian hugs and fonds thee on her breast, 
And with sweet kisses in her arms constrains; 
Thou mayst infuse thy venom in her veins." 
The god of love obeys, and sets aside 
His bow and quiver, and his plumy pride: 
He walks lulus in his mother's sight, 
And in the sweet resemblance takes delight. 
The goddess then to young Ascanius flies, 
And in a pleasing slumber seals his eyes- 
Lull'd in her lap amidst a tram of Loves, 
She gently bears him to her blissful groves, 
Then with a wreath of myrtle crowns his head, 
And softly lays him on a liow'ry bed. 
Cupid meantime assum'd his form and face, 
Following Achates with a shorter pace, 
And brought the gifts. The queen already sa*« 
Amidst the Trojan lords, in shining state, 
High on a golden bed : her princely guest 
Was next her side ; in order sate the rest. 



1 80 jeneis. 

Then canisters with bread are heap'd on high 

Th' attendants water for their hands supply, 

And, having wash'd, with silken towels dry. 

Next fifty handmaids in long order bore 

The censers, and with fumes the gods adore: 

Then youths and virgins, twice as many, join 

To place the dishes, and to serve the wine. 

The Tyrian train admitted to the feast, 

Approach, and on the painted couches rest. 

All on the Trojan gifts with wonder gaze, 

But view the beauteous boy with more amaze, 

His rosy-colour' d cheeks, his radiant eyes, 

His motions, voice, and shape, and all the god's disguise ; 

Nor pass unprais'd the vest and veil divine, 

Which wan'dring foliage and rich flovv'rs entwine. 

But, far above the rest, the royal dame, 

(Already doom'd to love's disastrous flame) 

With eyes insatiate, and tumultuous joy, 

Beholds the presents, and admires the boy. 

The guileful god, about the hero long, 

With children's play, and false embraces, hung; 

Then sought the queen : she took him to her arms 

With greedy pleasure, and devour'd his charms. 

Unhappy Dido little thought what guest, 

How dire a god, she drew so near her breast. 

But he, not mindless of his mother's pray'r, 

Works in the pliant bosom of the fair, 

And moulds her heart anew, and blots her former care. 

The dead is to the living love resign'd ; 

And all ^neas enters in her mind 

Now, when the rage of hunger was appeas'd, 
The meat remov'd, and ev'ry guest was pleas'd, 
The golden bowls with sparkling wine are crown'd, 
And through the palace cheerful cries resound. 
From gilded roofs depending lamps oisplay 
Nocturnal beams, that emulate the day. 
A golden bowl, that shone with gems divine, 
The queen commanded to be crown'd with wine — 
The bowl that Belus us'd. and all the Tyrian line. 



Then, silence through the hall proclaim'd, she spoke 

" O, hospitable Jove ! we thus invoke, 

With solemn rites, thy sacred name and pow'r: 

Bless to both nations this auspicious hour! 

So may the Trojan, and the Tyrian line 

in lasting concord from this day combine. 

Thou, Bacchus, god of joys and friendly cheer, 

And gracious Juno, both be present here! 

And you, my lords of Tyre, your vows address 

To heav'n, with mine, to ratify the peace." 

The goblet then she took, with nectar crown'd, 

(Sprinkling tiie first libations on the ground^ 

And rais'd it to her mouth with sober grace, 

Then, sipping, ofler'd to the next in place. 

'Twas Bitias whom she call'd— a thirsty soul: 

He took the challenge, and embrac'd the bowl, 

With pleasure swill'd the gold, nor ceas'd to draw, 

Till he the bottom of the brimmer saw. 

The goblet goes around : Iopas brought 

His golden lyre, and sung what ancient Atlas taught— 

The various labours of the wand'ring moon, 

And whence proceed th' eclipses of the sun ; 

Th' original of men and beasts; and whence 

The rains arise, and fires their warmth dispense, 

And fix'd and erring stars dispose their influence ; 
What shakes the solid earth ; what cause delays 

The summer nights, and shortens winter days. 

With peals of shouts the Tyrians praise the song; 

Those peals are echo'd by the Trojan throng. 

Th' unhappy queen with talk prolonged the night, 

And drank large draughts of love with vast delight ; 

Of Priam much inquir'd, of Hector more ; 

Then ask'd what arms the swarthy Memnon wore, 

What troops he landed on the Trojan shore; 

(The steeds of Diomede varied the discourse, 

And fierce Achilles, with his matchless force) 

At length, as Fate and her ill stars requir'd, 

To hear the series of the war desir'd. 



182 .fiNEIS. 

* Relate at large, my god-like guest," she said, 
1 The Grecian stratagems, the town betray'd: 
The fatal issue of so long a war. 
Your flight, your wand'rings, and your woes declare: 
For, since on ev'ry sea, on ev'ry coast, 
Your men have been distress'd, your navy tossM, 
Sev'n times the sun has either tropic view'd, 
The winter banish'd, and the spring renew' d." 



M N E I S. 



BOOK II. 



ARGUMENT. 

relates how the city of Troy was taken, after a ten 
years' siege, by the treachery of Sinon, and the strata- 
gem of a wooden horse. He declares the fixed resolution 
he had taken not to survive the ruin of his country, and 
the various adventures he met with in defence of it. At 
last, having been before advised by Hector's ghost, and 
now by the appearance of his mother Venus, lie is prevail- 
ed upon to leave the town, and settle his household gods 
in another country. In order to this, he carries off his 
father on his shoulders, and leads his little son by the 
hand, his wife following him behind. When he conies to 
the place appointed for she general rendezvous, he finds a 
great confluence of people, but misses his wife, whose 
ghost afterwards appears to him, and teLs him the land 
which was designed for him. 



ALL were attentive to the godlike man, 
When from his lotty couch he thus beg m : 
"Great Queen, what you command me to relate 
Renews the sad remembrance of our fate. 
An empire from its old foundations rent, 
And every wo the Trojans underwent ; 
A peopled city made a desert place : 
All that I saw and part of which I was ; 
Not e'en the hardest of our foes could hear, 
Nor stern Ulysses hear, without a tear. 



184 ifcNEIS. 

And mow the latter watch of wasting night, 
And setting stars, to kindly rest invite. 
But, since you take such int'rest in our wo, 
And Troy's disastrous end desire to know, 
I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell 
What in our last and fatal night befell. 
By destiny cornpeU'd, and in despair, 
The Greeks grew weary of the tedious war, 
And, by Minerva's aid, a fabric rear'd, 
Which like a steed of monstrous height appeared : 
The sides were plank'd with pine: they feign'd it made 
For their return, and this the vow they paid. 
Thus they pretend, but in the hollow side, 
Selected numbers of their soldiers hide : 
With inward arms the dire machine they load ; 
And iron bowels stuff the dark abode. 
In sight of Troy lies Tenedos an isle 
(While Fortune did on Priam's empire smile) 
Renown'd for wealth ; but, since a faithless bay, 
Where ships expos'd to wind and weather lay, 
There was their fleet conceal'd. We thought lor Greece 
Their sails were hoisted, and our fears release. 
The Trojans, coop'd within their walls so long, 
Unbar their gates and issue in a throng. 
Like swarming bees, and with delight survey 
The camp deserted, where the Grecians lay : 
The quarters of the sev'ral chiefs they show'd — 
Here Phoenix, here Achilles, made abode ; 
Aeie join'd the battles ; there the navy rode. 
Part on the pile their wand' ring eyes employ— 
The pile by Pallas rais'd to ruin Troy. 
Thymoetes first ('tis doubtful whether hir'd, 
Or so the Trojan destiny requir'd) 
JVlov'd that the ramparts might be broken down, 
To lodge the monster fabric in the town. 
ButCapys, and the rest of sounder mind, 
The latal present to the flames design'd, 



-fiNEIS. lb"5 

Or to the watry deep ; at least to bore 

The hollow sides, and hidden frauds explore. 

The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide, 

With noise say nothing, and in parts divide. 

Laocoon, follow'd by a num'rous crovv'd, 

Ran from the fort, and cried, from far, aloud : 

" O wretched countrymen ! what fury reigns ? 

What more than madness has possess' d your brains? 

Think you the Grecians from your coasts are gone ? 

And are Ulysses' arts no better known? 

This hollow fabric either must enclose, 

Within its blind recess, our secret foes ; 

Or His an engine rais'd above the town. 

T' overlook the walls, and them to batter down. 

Somewhat is sure design'd, by fraud or force — 

Trust not their presents, nor admit the horse. " 

Thus having said, against tne steed he threw 

His forceful spear, which hissing as it flew, 

Pierc'd through the yielding planks of jointed wood, 

And trembling in the hollow belly stood, 

The sides transpierc'd, return a rattling sound : 

And groans of Greeks inclos r d come issuing through the 

wound. 
And had not heav'n the fall of Troy design'd 
Or had not men been fated to be blind, 
Enough was said and done, f inspire a better mind. 
Then had our lances pierc'd the treach'rous wood, 
And Ilian tow'rs and Priam's empire stood. 
Meantime, with shouts, the Trojan shepherds bring 
A captive Greek in bands, before the king — 
Taken, to take — who made himself their prey, 
T' impose on their belief, and Troy betray ; 
Fix'd on his aim, and obstinately bent 
To die undaunted, or to circumvent. 
About the captive, tides of Trojans flow ; 
All press to see, and some insult the foe. 
Now hear how well the Greeks their wiles disguisM s 
Behold a nation in a man compris'd. 



186 ICNEiS. 

Trembling the miscreant stood: unarm' d and bound, 
Ho star'd, and roll'd his haggard eyes around, 
Then said, "Alas! what earth remains, what sea 
Is open to receive unhappy me? 
What fate a wretched fugitive attends, 
Scorn'd by my foes, abandon'd by my friends ! 
He said, and sigh'd, and cast a rueful eye : 
Our pity kindles, and our passions die. 
We cheer the youth to make his own defence, 
And freely tell us what he was, and whence* 
What news he could impart, we long to know, 
And what to credit from a captive foe. 

His fear at length dismissed, he said, " W 7 hate'er 
My fate ordains, my words shall be hincere: 
I neither can, nor dare my birth disclaim- 
Greece is my country, Sinon is my name, 
Though plung'd by Fortune's pow'r in misery, 
'Tis not in Fortune's pow'r to make me lie. 
If any chance has hither brought the name 
Of Palamedes, not unknown to fame, 
Who suffer'd from the malice of the times, 
Accus'd and sentenc'd for pretended crimes, 
Because the fatal wars he would prevent; 
Whose death the wretched Greeks too late lament— 
Me, then a boy, my father, poor and bare 
Of other means, committed to his care, 
His kinsman and companion in the war. 
While Fortune favour'd, while his arms support 
The cause, and rul'd the counsels of the court, 
I made some figure there ; nor was my name 
Obscure, nor I without my share of fame. 
But when Ulysses, with fallacious arts, 
Had made impressions in the people's hearts, 
And forg'd a treason in my patrons name, 
(I speak of things too far divulg'd by fame) 
My kinsman fell. Then I, without support, 
In private mounvd his loss, and left the court. 



fiNEIS. 187 

Mad as I was, I could not bear his fate 

With silent grief, but loudly blam'd the state, 

And curs' d the direful author of my woes.— 

*Twas told again, and hence my ruin rose. 

I threaten'd, if indulgent heav'n once more 

Would land me safely on my native shore, 

His death with double vengeance to restore. 

This mov'd the murderer's hale, and soon ensu'd 

TV effects of malice from a man so proud. 

Ambiguous rumours through the camp he spread, 

And sought, by treason, my devoted head ; 

New crimes invented ; left unturn'd no stone, 

To make my guilt appear, and hide his own ; 

Till Calchas was by force and threat'ning wrought — 

But why — why dwell I on that anxious thought? 

If on my nation just revenge you seek, 

And His t' appear a foe t' appear a Greek ; 

Already you my name aud country know: 

Assuage your thirst of blood and strike the blow: 

My death will both the kingly brothers please, 

And set insatiate Ithacus at ease." 

This fair unnnish'd tale, these broken starts, 

Rais'd expectations in our longing hearts; 

Unknowing as we were in Grecian arts. 

His former trembling once again renew'd, 

With acted fear, the villain thus pursu'd : 

" Long had the Grecians (tir'd with fruitless care, 

Aud weaned with an unsuccessful war) 

Resolv'd to raise the siege aud leave the town: 

And, had the gods permitted, they had gone. 

But oft the wintry seas, and southern winds, 

Withstood their passage home, and changed their minds 

Portents and prodigies their souls amaz'd; 

But most, when this stupendous pile was rais'd : 

Then flaming meteors, hung in air, were seen, 

And thunders rattled through a sky serene. 

Dismay'd, and fearful of some dire event, 

Eurypylus, t' inquire their fate, was sent. 



1^8 JENEIS. 

He from the gods this dreadful answer brought: 
* O Grecians I when the Trojan shores you sought, 
Your passage with a virgin's blood was bought: 
So must your safe return be bought again ; 
And Grecian blood once more atone the main.' 
The spreading rumour round the people ran ; 
AH fear'd, and each believed himself the man. 
Ulysses took the advantage of their fright ; 
Call'd Calchas, and produced in open sight, 
Then bade him name the wretch, ordain'd by fate 
The public victim to redeem the state. 
Already some presag'd the dire event, 
And saw what sacrifice Ulysses meant. 
For twice five days the good old seer withstood 
IV intended treason, and was dumb to blood. 
Till, tir'd with endless clamours and pursuit 
Of Ithacus, he stood no longer mute, 
But, as it was agreed, pronounc'd that I 
Was destined by the wrathful gods to die. 
All prais'd the sentence; pleas'd the storm should fa!l 
On one alone, whose fury threatened all. 
The dismal day was come, the priests prepare 
Their leaven'd cakes, and fillets lor my hair. 
1 followed nature's laws, and must avow, 
[ broke my bonds, and fled the fatal blow. 
Hid in a weedy lake, all night I lay, 
Secure of safety when they sail'd away. 
But now what further hopes for me remain, 
To see my friends or native soil again; 
My tender infants, or my careful sire, 
Whom they returning will to death require ; 
Will perpetrate on them their first design, 
And take the forfeit of their heads for mine? 
Which, O ! if pity mortal minds can move, 
If there be faith below, or gods above, 
If innocence and truth can claim desert, 
Ve Trojans, from an mjur'd wretch avert." 



J5NEIS. 139 

False tears true pity move : the king commands 
To loose his fetters, and unbind bis hands, 
Then adds these friendly words: "Dismiss thy feais: 
Forget the Greeks : be mine as thou wert theirs : 
But truly tell, was it for force or guile, 
Or some religious end, you rais'd the pile ?" 
Thus said the king: He, full of fraudful arts, 
This well-invented tale for truth imparts: 
" Ye lanms of heav'n !" he said, and lifted high 
His hands, now free — " thou venerable sky! 
Inviolable pow'rs, ador'd with dread ! 
Ye fatal fillets that once bound this head : 
Ye sacred altars, from whose flames I lied ! 
Be all of you adjufd ; and grant I may, 
Without a crime, th' ungrateful Greeks betray, 
Reveal the secrets of the guilty state, 
And justl} T punish whom I justly hate ! 
But you, 6 king, preserve the faith you gave, 
If I, to save myself, your empire save. 
The Grecian hopes, and all th' attempts they made, 
Were only founded on Minerva's aid. 
But from the time when impious Diomede 
And false Ulysses, that inventive head, 
Her fatal image from the temple drew, 
The sleeping guardians of the castle slew, 
Her virgin statue with their bloody hands 
Polluted and profan'd her holy bands; 
From thence the tide of fortune left their shore, 
And ebb'd much faster than it flow'd before : 
Their courage languish'c as their hopes decay'd ; 
And Pallas, now averse, re fus'd her aid. 
Nor did the goddess doubtfully declare 
Her alter'd mind, and alienated care. 
When first her fatal image touch'd the ground, 
She sternly cast-her glaring eyes around, 
That sparkled as they roll'd, and seem'd to threat: 
Her heav'nly limbs disthTd a briny sweat. 



190 JRNEIS. 

Thrice from the ground she leap'd, was seen to wiek 

Her brandish'd lance, and shake her horrid shield. 

Then Calchas bade our host for flight prepare, 

And hope no conquest from the tedious war, 

Till first they sail'd tor Greece : with pray'rs besought 

Her injur'd pow'r, and better omens brought. 

And, now their navy ploughs the wat'ry main 

Yet soon expect it on your shores again, 

With Pallas pleas' d ; as Calchas did ordain. 

But first, to reconcile the blue-ey'd maid 

For her stol'n statue and her tow'r betray'd, 

Warn'd by the seer, to her offended name 

We rais'd and dedicate this wond'rous frame, 

So lofty, lest through your forbidden gates 

Jt pass, and intercept our be + ter fates: 

For, once admitted there, our hopes are lost; 

And Troy may then a new palladium boast: 

For so religion and the gods ordain, 

That, if you violate with hands profane 

Minerva's gift, your town in flame shall burn, 

(Which omen, O ye gods, on Gnecia turn !) 

But if it climb, with your assisting hands, 

The Trojan walls, and in the city stands; 

Then Troy shall Argos and Mycaene burn, 

And the reverse of fate on us return." 

With such deceits he gain'd their easy hearts, 
Too prone to credit his perfidious arts. 
What Diomede nor Thetis greater son, 
A thousand ships, nor ten yea""' siege had done — 
False tears and fawning words the city won. 

A greater omen, and of worse portent, 
Did our unweary minds with fear torment, 
Concurring to produce the dire event. 
Laocoon, Neptune's priest by lot that year, 
With solemn pomp then sacrific'd a steer ; 
When (dreadful to behold!) from sea we spied 
Two serpents, rank'd abreast, the seas divide, 
And smoothly sweep along the swelling tide. 



£XE1S. 191 

Their flaming crests above the waves they show : 
Their bellies seem to burn the seas below : 
Their speckled tales advauce to steer their course, 
And on the sounding shore the flying billows force. 
And now the strand, and now the plain, they he*c, 
Their ardent eyes with bloody streaks were filPd : 
Their nimble tongues they brandishM as they came, 
And lick'd their hissing jaws, that sputter'd flame. 
We fled amaz'd ; their destin'd way they take, 
And to Laocoon and his children make: 
And first around the tender boys they wind, 
Then with their sharpen'd fangs their limbs and bodies 

grind. 
The wretched father, running to their aid 
With pious haste, but vain, they next invade; 
Twice round his waist the winding volumes roll'd ; 
And twice about his gasping throat they told. 
The priest thus doubly chok'd — their crests divide, 
And towYmg o'er his head in triumph ride. 
With both his hands he labours at the knots; 
His holy fillets the blue venom blots: 
His roaring fills the flitting air around. 
Thus, when an ox receives a glancing wound, 
He breaks his bands, the fatal altar flies, 
And with loud bellowings breaks the yielding skies. 
Their tasks perform'd, the serpents quit their prey, 
And to the tow'r of Pallas make their way: 
Couch'd at her feet, they lie protected there, 
By her large buckler, and protended spear. 
Amazement seizes all ; the gen'ral cry 
Proclaims Laocoon justly doom'd to die, 
Whose hand the will of Pallas had withstood, 
And dar'd to violate the sacred wood. 
All vote t 1 admit the steed, that vows be paid, 
And incense ofter'd toth' offended maid. 
A spacious breach is made • the town lies bare : 
Some hoisting-levers, some the wheels prepare^ 



192 



JF.N'EIS. 



And fasten to the horse's feet: the rest 

With cables haul along th' unwieldy beast. 

Each on his fellow for assistance calls : 

At length the fatal fabric mounts the walls. 

Big with destruction. Boys with chaplets erown'd, 

And choirs of virgins, sing and dance around. 

Thus rais'd aloft, and then descending down, 

J\ enters o'er our heads and threats the town. 

A sacred city, built by hands divine! 

O valiant heroes of the Trojan line ! 

Four times he struck : as ofi the clashing sound 

Of arms was heard, and inward groans rebound. 

Yet, mad with zeal, and blinded with our fate, 

We haul along the horse in solemn state ; 

Then place the dire portent within the tow'r. 

Cassandra cried, and curs'd th' unhappy hour; 

h 'oretold our fate : but, by the gods' decree 

All heard, and none believ'd the prophecy. 

With branches we the fanes adorn, and waste, 

In jollity, the day ordain'd to be the last 

Meantime the rapid heavens roll'd down th' light, 

And on the shaded ocean rush'd the night: 

Our men secure, nor guards nor sentries held ; 

But easy sleep their weary limbs compell'd. 

The Grecians had embark'd their naval pow'rs 

From Tenedos, and sought our well-known shores. 

Safe under covert of the silent night, 

And guided Dy th' imperial galley's light ; 

"When Sinon, favour' d by the partial gods, 

Unlock'd the horse, and op'd his dark abodes; 

Restor'd to vital air our hidden foes, 

Who joyful from their long confinement rose, 

Thessander bold, and Sthenelus their guide, 

And dire Ulysses down the cable slide: 

Then Thoas Athamas, and Pyrrhus, haste; 

Nor was the Podalirian hero last, 

Nor injur' d Menelaus, nor the fam'd 

Epeus who the fatal engine frain'd. 



193 



A nameless crowd succeed ; their forces join 
T* invade the town, oppress' d with sleep and wine. 
Those few they find awake, first meet their late; 
Then to their fellows, they unbar the gate. 

'Twas in the dead of night, when sleep repairs 
Our bodies worn with toils, our minds with cares, 
When Hector's ghost before my sight appears: 
A bloody shroud he seem'd, and bath'd in tears ; 
Such as he was, when by Pelides slain 
Thessaiian coursers dragg'd him o'er the plain. 
Swoln were his feet, as when the thongs were t hurst 
Through the bor'd holes; his body black with dust \ 
Unlike that Hector, who return'd, from toils 
Of war, triumphant in JEacian spoils, 
Or him, who made the fainting Greeks retire, 
And launch'd against their navy Phrygian fire. 
His hair and beard stood stirTen'd with his gore ; 
And all the wounds he for his country bore, 
Now stream'd afresh, and with new purple ran. 
1 wept to see the visionary man, 
And while my trance continu'd thus began : 
" O light of Trojans, and support of Troy, 
Thy father's champion, and thy country's joyi 
O, long expected by thy friends ! from whence 
\n thou so late return'd for our defence ? 
Do we behold thee, wearied as we are, 
With length of labours, and with toils of war! 
After so many fun'rals of thy own, 
Art thou restor'd to thy declining town? 
But say, what wounds are these ? what new disgrace 
Deforms the manly features of thy face ?" 

To this the spectre no reply did frame, 
But answer'd to the cause for which he came, 
And, groaning from the bottom of his breast, 
This warning, in these mournful words express'd? 

" O goddess- born ! escape by timely flight, 
The flames and horrors of this fatal night. 

VOL. 1. 13 



194 .ENEIS. 

The foes already have possessed the wall : 
Troy nods from high, and totters to her fall. 
Enough is paid to Priam's royal name, 
More than enough to duty and to fame. 
If hy a mortal hand my father's throne 
Could be defended, 'twas by mine alone, 
Now Troy to thee commends her future state, 
And gives her gods companions of thy fate : 
From their assistance happier walls expect, 
Which, wand'ring long, at last thou shalt erect." 
He said, and brought me from their blest abodes, 
The venerable statues of the gods, 
With ancient Vesta from the sacred choir, 
The wreaths and relics of th' immortal fire. 

Now peals of shouts come thund'ring from afar, 
Cries, threats, and loud laments, and mingled war: 
The noise approaches, though our palace stood 
Aloof from streets, encompass'd with a wood. 
Louder, and yet more loud, I hear th' alarms 
Of human cries distinct, and clashing arms. 
Fear broke my slumbers; 1 no longer stay, 
Hut mount the terrace, thence the town survey, 
And hearken what the frightful sounds convey. 
Thus — when a flood of fire by wind is borne, 
Crackling it rolls, and mows the standing corn ; 
Or deluges, descending on the plains, 
Sweep o'er the yellow year, destroy the pains 
Of labouring oxen and the peasant's gains ; 
Unroot the forest oaks, and bear away 
FIocks, folds, and trees, an nndistinguish'd prey — 
The shepherd climbs the cliff, and sees from far 
The wasteful ravage of the wat'ry war. 
Then Hector's faith was manifestly clear'd ; 
And Grecian frauds in open light appear' d. 
The palace of DeVphobus ascends 
In smoky flames, and catches on his friends. 
Ucalegon burns next- tne seas are bright [lisr 

With splendour not their own, and snnie with 1 rojan 



£NEIS. 195 

New clamours and new clangours now arise, 
The sound of trumpets mix'd with fighting cries. 
With frenzy seiz'd, I run to meet th* alarms, 
Resolv'd on death, resolv'd to die in arms. 
But first to gather friends, with them to oppose 
(If fortune favour'd) and repel the foes — 
Spurr'd bymy courage, by my country fir'd, 
With sense of honour and revenge inspired. 

Panthiis, Apollo's priest, a sacred name, 
Had 'scap'd the Grecian swords, and pass'd the flame : 
With relics loaden, to my doors he fled, 
And by the hand his tender grandson led. 
44 What hope, O Panthiis ! whither can we run ? 
Where make a stand ? and what may yet be done ?" 
Scarce had I said, when Panthiis, with a groan, 
44 Troy is no more, and Ilium was a town ! 
The fatal day th' appointed hour, is come, 
W r hen wrathfulJove's irrevocable doom 
Transfers the Trojan state to Grecian hands. 
The fire consumes the town, the foe commands; 
And armed hosts, and unexpected force, 
Break from the bowels of the fatal horse. 
Within the gates, proud Sinon throws about 
The flames ; and foes, for entrance, press without, 
W r ith thousand others, whom I fear to name, 
More than from Argos or Mycenae came. 
To sev'rai posts their parties they divide: 
Some block the narrow streets, some scour the wide 
The bold they kill, th' unwary they surprise : 
Who rights finds death, and death finds him who flies. 
The warders of the gates but scarce maintain 
Th' unequal combat, and resist in vain." 

I heard: and heav'n. that well-born souls inspires, 
Prompts me, through lifted swords and rising fires 
To run, where clashing arms and clamour calis, 
And rush undaunted to defend the walls. 
Ripheus and Iphitu?. by my side engage, 
For valour one renown'd, and one for age 



196 iENEIS. 

Oymas and Hypanis by moonlight knew 

My motions and my mien, and to my party drew ; 

With young Choroebus, who by love was led 

To win renown, and fair Cassandra's bed ; 

And lately brought his troops to Priam's aid, 

Forewarn'd in vain by the prophetic maid : 

Whom when I saw resolv'd in arms to fall, 

And that one spirit animated all, 

" Brave souls !" said I — " but brave, alas, in vain 

Come, finish wha* our cruel fates ordain. 

You see the desp'rate state of our affairs ; 

And heavVs protecting pow'rs are deaf to pray'rs. 

The passive gods behold the Greeks defile 

Their temples, and abandon to the spoil 

Their own abodes: we, feeble few, conspire 

To save a sinking town, involv'd in fire. 

Then let us fall, but fall amidst our foes : 

Despair of life the means of living shows." 

So bold a speech encourag'd their desire 

Of death, and added fuel to their fire. 

As hungry wolves, with raging appetite, 
Scour through the fields, nor fear the stormy night — 
Their whelps at home expect the promis'd food, 
And long to temper their dry chaps in blood — 
So rush'd we forth at once. Resolv'd to die, 
Resolv'd in death the last extremes to try, 
We leave the narrow lianes behind, and dare 
'TV unequal combat in the public square : 
Night was our friend ; our leader was despair. 
What tongue can tell the slaughter of that night? 
What eyes can weep the sorrows and affright ? 
An ancient and imperial city falls: 
The streets are fill'd with frequent funerals: 
Houses and holy temples float in blood ; 
And hostile nations make a common flood. 
Not only Trojans fall ; but in their turn, 
The vanquished triumph, and the victors mourn. 



JENEIS. 197 

Ours take new courage from despair and night; 
Confus'd the fortune is, confus'd the fight. 
All parts resound with tumults, plaints, and fears ; 
And grisly Death in sundry shapes appears. 
Androgeosfeli among us, with his band, 

Who thought us Grecians newly come to land. 

" From whence, 11 said he, " my friends, this long delay? 

You loiter while the spoils are borne away: 

Our ships are laden with the Trojan store ; 

And you, like truants, come too late ashore." 

He said, but soon corrected his mistake, 

Found, by the doubtful answers which we make. 

Amaz'd, he would have stounn'd th 1 unequal fight; 

But we, more numerous, intercept his flight. 

As when some peasant in a bushy brake, 

Has with unwary footing press 1 d a snake ; 

He starts aside, astonish'd when he spies 

His rising crest, blue neck, and rolling eyes ; 

So, from our arms, surpris'd Androgeo's flies — 

In vain : for him and his we compass round, 

Possess'd with fear, unknowing of the ground ; 

And of their lives an easy conquest found. 

Thus Fortune on our first endeavour smilM. 

Chorcebus then, with youthful hopes beguiPd, 

Swoln with success, and of a daring mind, 

This new invention fatally designed. 

4 My friends," said he, " since Fortune shows the way 

lis fit we should th 1 auspicious guide obey. 
For what has she these Grecians arms bestowM, 
But their destruction, and the Trojans' good ? 
Then change we shields, and their devices bear: 
Let fraud supply the want of force in war. 
They find us arms." This said, himself he dress'd 
In dead Androgeos 1 spoils, his upper vest. 
His painted buckler and his plumy crest. 
Thus Rbipheus, Dymas, all the Trojan train, 
Lay down their own attire, and strip the slain. 



198 2ENE1S. 

iYlix'd with the Greeks, we go with ill presage, 
F latter 'd with hopes to glut our greedy rage; 
Unknown assaulting whom we blindly meet, 
And strew, with Grecian carcasses, the street 
Thus, while their straggling parties we defeat, 
Some to the shore and safer ships retreat ; 
And some, oppress'd with more ignoble fear, 
Remouut the hollow horse, and pant in secret there. 

But ah ! what use of valour can be made, 
When heav'n's propitious pow'rs refuse their aid? 
Behold the royal prophetess, the fair 
Cassandra, dragg'd by her dishevell'd hair, 
Whom not Minerva's shrine, nor sacred bands, 
In safety could protect from sacrilegious hands: 
On heav'n she cast her eyes, she sigh'd, she cried — 
'Twas all she cculd — her tender arms were tied 
So sad a sight Chorcebus could not bear ; 
But fir'd with rage, distracted with despair, 
Amid the barb'rous ravishers he flew. 
Our leader's rash example we pursue: 
But storms of stones, from the proud temple's height, 
Pour down, and on our batter'd helms alipht: 
We from our friends receiv'd this fatal blow, 
Who thought us Grecians, as we seem'd in show. 
They aim at the mistaken crests, from high ; 
And ours beneath the pond'rous ruin lie. 
Then mov'd with anger and disdain, to see 
Their troops dispers'd, the royal virgin free. 
The Grecians rally, and their pow'rs unite, 
With fury charge us, and renew the fight. 
The brother kings with Ajax join their force, 
And the whole squadron of Thessalian horse. 

Thus when the rival winds their quarrel try, 
Contending for the kingdom of the sky, 
South, East, and West, on airy coursers borne — 
The whirlwind gathers, and the woods are torn : 
Then Nereus strikes the deep : the billows rise, 
And mix'd with ooze and sand, pollute the skies. 



ALNEIS. 139 

The troops we squandered first, again appear 

From sev'ral quarters, and enclose the rear. 

The}' first observe, and to the rest betray, 

Our different speech; our borrow'd arms survey. 

Oppress'd with odds, we fall ; Choroebus first, 

At Pallas' altar, by Peneleus pierc'd, 

Then Ripheus followed, in th' unequal fight; 

T ust of his word, observant of the right: 

Heav'n thought not so. Dyrnas their fate attends, 

With Hypanis, mistaken by their friends. 

Nor, Panthus, thee thy mitre nor the bands 

Of awful Phoebus, sav'd from impious hands. 

Ye Trojan flames ! your testimony bear, 

What 1 performed and what I suffer' d there, 

No sword avoiding in the fatal strife, 

Expos'd to death, and prodigal of life. 

Witness, ye heavens ! 1 live not by my fault; 

I strove to have deserv'd the death I sought. 

But when I could not fight, and would have died, 

Borne off to distance by the growing tide, 

Old Iphitus and 1 were hurried thence, 

With Pelias wounded, and without defence. 

New clamours from th' invested palace ring: 

We run to die, or disengage the king. 

So hot th' assault, so high the tumult rose, 

While ours defend, and while the Greeks oppose, 

As all the Dardan and Argolic race 

Had been contracted in that narrow space ; 

Or as all Ilium else were void of fear, 

And tumult, war, and slaughter, only there. 

Their targets in a tortoise cast, their foes, 

Secure advancing, to the turrets rose : 

Some mount the scaling ladders ; some, more bold, 

Swerve upwards, and by posts and pillars hold : 

Their left hand gripes their bucklers in th' ascent, 

While with the right they seize the battlement. 

From the demclish'd tow'rs the Trojans throw 

Huge heaps of stones, that falling, crush the foe: 



200 iENEIS. 

And heavy beams and rafters from the sides, 
Such arms their last necessity provides I) 
And gilded roofs come tumbling from on high, 
Tue marks of state and ancient royalty. 
The guards below, hx'd in the pass, attend 
The charge undaunted, and the gate defend. 
Reuew'd in courage with recover'd breath, 
A second time we ran to tempt our death, 
To clear the palace from the foe, succeed 
The weary living, and revenge the dead. 

A postern door yet unobserv'd, and free, 
Join'd by the length of a blind gallery, 
To the king's closet led — a way well known 
To Hector's wile, while Priam held the throne — 
Through which she brought Astyanax, unseen, 
To cheer his grandsire, and hisgrandsire's queen. 
Through this we pass, and mount the tow'r from whence 
With unavailing arms the Trojans make defence. 
From this the trembling king had oft descried 
The Grecian camp, and saw their navy ride. 
Beams from its lofty height with swords we hew, 
Then, wrenching with our hands, th' assault renew ; 
And, where the rafters on the columns meet, 
We push them headlong with our arms and feet. 
Tbc lightning flies not swifter than the fail ; 
Nor thunder louder than the ruin'd wall: 
Down goes the top at once ; the Greeks beneath 
Are piecemeal torn, or pounded into death. 
Vet more succeed, and more to death are sent: 
We cease not from above, nor they below relent. 
Before the gate stood Pyrrhus, threatning loud, 
With glittering arms conspicuous in the crowd. 
So shines, renewM in youth, the crested snake, 
Who slept the winter m a thorny brake, 
And, casting off his slough when spring returns, 
Now looks aloft, and with new glory burns, 
i^estorM with pois'nous herbs: his ardent sides 
Reflect the sun, and raisM on spires, he rides 



201 



High o'er the grass: hissing he rolls along, 

And brandishes by tits his fork}' tongue. 

Proud Periphas, and fierce Automedon, 

His father's charioteer, together run 

To force the gate : the Scyrian infantry 

Rush on in crowds, and the barr'd passage free. 

Ent'ring the court, with shouts the skies they rend ; 

And flaming firebrands to the roofs ascend. 

Himself, among the foremost, deais his blows, 

And with his axe repeated strokes bestows 

On the strong doors : then all their shoulders ply, 

Till from the posts the brazen hinges fly, 

He hews apace : the double bars at length 

Yield to his axe and unresisted strength. 

A mighty breach is made: the rooms conceal'd 

Appear, and all the palace is reveaPd — 

The halls of audience, and of public state, 

And where the lonely queen in secret sate. 

Arm'd soldiers now by trembling maids are seen, 

With not a door, and scarce a space, between. 

The house is filFd with loud laments and cries 

And shrieks of women rend the vaulted skies. 

The fearful matrons run from place to place, 

And kiss the thresholds, and the posts embrace. 

The fatal work inhuman Pyrrhus plies; 

And all his father sparkles in his eyes. 

Nor bars, nor fighting guards his force sustain . 

The bars are broken and the guards are slain. 

In rush the Greeks, and all th 1 apartments fill ; 

Those few defendants whom they find, they kill ; 

Not with so fierce a rage the foaming flood 

Roars, when he finds his rapid course withstood , 

Bears down the dams with unresisted sway, 

And sweeps the cattle and the cots away. 

These eyes beheld him, when he march'd between 

The brother kings : I saw ill* unhappy queen, 



202 JENEIS. 

The hundred wives, and where old Priam stood, 
To stain his hallow'd altar with his blood. 
The fifty nuptial beds, (such hopes had he, 
So large a promise, of a progeny) 
The posts of plated gold, and hung with spoils, 
Fell the reward of the proud victor's toils. 
Where'er the raging fire had left a space, 
The Grecians enter and possess the place. 

Perhaps you may of Priam's fate inquire. 
He — when he saw his regal town on fire, 
His ruin'd palace, and his ent'ring foes, 
On ev'ry side inevitable woes — 
In arms disus'd invests his limbs, decay'd, 
Like them, with age; a late and useless aid. 
His feeble shoulders scarce the weight sustain : 
Loaded, not arm'd, he creeps along with pain, 
Despairing of success, ambitious to be slain ! 
Uncover'd but by heav'n, there stood in view 
An altar: near the hearth a laurel grew, 
Dodder'd with age, whose boughs encompass round 
The household gods, and shade the holy ground. 
Here Hecuba, with all her helpless tram 
Of dames for shelter sought, but sought in vain. 
Driv'n like a flock of doves along the sky, 
Their images they hug, and to their altars fly. 
The queen, when she beheld her trembling lord, 
And hanging by his side a heavy sword, 
•« What rage," she cried, " has seiz'd my husband's 

mind? 
What arms are these, and to what use designed ? 
These times want other aids ! were Hector here, 
E'en Hector now in vain, like Priam, would appear. 
W r ith us, one common shelter thou shalt find, 
Or in one common fate with us be join'd." $ 

She said, and with a last salute embrae'd 
The poor old man, and by the laurel plac'd. 
Behold ! Polites, one of Priam^s sons, 
Pursu'd by Pyrrhus, there for safety runs. 



JENEIS. 203 

Through swords and foes, amaz'd and hurt, he flies 
Through empty courts, and open galleries. 
Him Pyrrhus, urging with his lance, pursues, 
And often reaches, and his thrusts renews. 
The youth transfix'd, with lamentable cries, 
Expires before his wretched parents' eyes: 
Whom gasping at his feet, when Priam saw, 
The fear of death gave place to nature's law : 
And, shaking more with anger than with age, 
u The gods," said he, " requite thy brutal rage? 
As sure they will, barbarian, sure they must, 
If there be gods in heaven, and gods be just — 
Who tak'st in wrongs an insolent delight; 
With a sons death t' infect a father's sight. 
Not he whom thou and lying fame conspire 
To call thee his — not he, thy vaunted sire, 
Thus us'd my wretched age : the gods he fear'd, 
The laws of nature and of nations heard. 
He cheer'd my sorrows, and, for sums of gold, 
The bloodless carcass of my Hector sold ; 
Pitied the woes a parent underwent, 
And sent me back in safety from his tent." 

This said, his feeble hand a javelin threw, 
Which, flutt'ring seem'd to loiter as it flew: 
Just, and but barely, to the mark it held, 
And faintly tinkled on the brazen shield. 

Then Pyrrhus thus: "Go thou from me to fate, 
And to my father my foul deeds relate. 
Now die !" — W r ith that he dragg'd the trembling sire, 
Slidd'ring through clotter'd blood and holy mire, 
(The mingled paste his murder'd son had made) 
Haul'd from beneath the violated shade, 
And on the sacred pile the royal victim laid. 
His right hand neld his bloody falchion bare ; 
His left he twisted in his hoary hair : 
Then, with a speeding thrust, his heart he found r. 
The lukewarm blood came rushing thro' the wound, 
And sanguine streams distain'd the sacred ground. 



204 ALNEIS. 

Thus Priam fell, and shar'd one common fate 
With Troy in ashes, and his ruin'd state — 
He who the sceptre of all Asia sway'd, 
Whom monarch s like domestic slaves obey'd. 
On th' bleak shore now lies the abandoned king, 
A headless carcass, and a nameless thing. 

Then, not before, 1 felt my curdled blood 
Congeal with fear ; my hair with horror stood : 
My father's image fill'd my pious mind, 
Lest equal years might equal fortune find. 
Again I thought on my forsaken wife, 
And trembled for my son's abandon'd life. 
I look'd about, but found myself alone, 
Deserted at my need I My friends were gone. 
Some spent with toil, some with despair oppress'd, 
Leap'd headlong from the heights ; the flames consumed 

the rest. 
Thus wand'ring in my way without a guide, 
The graceless Helen in the porch 1 spied 
Of Vesta's temple : there she lurk'd alone : 
Muffled she sate, and what she could, unknown: 
But, by the flames that cast their blaze around, 
That common bane of Greece and Troy 1 found. 
For Ilium burnt, she dreads the Trojan sword; 
More dreads the vengeance of her injur'd lord ; 
E'en by those gods, who refug'd her, abhorr'd 
Trembling with rage, the strumpet 1 regard, 
Resolv'd to give her guilt the due reward. 
" Shall she triumphant sail before the wind, 
And leave in flames unhappy Troy behind ? 
Shall she her kingdom and her friends review, 
Jn state attended with a captive crew, 
While unreveng'd the gcod old Priam falls, 
And Grecian fires consume the Trojan walls? 
For this the Phrygian fields and Xanthian flood 
Were swell'd with bodies, and were drunk with blood ? 
'Tis true, a soldier can small honour gain, 
And boast no conquest from a woman slain : 



.ENEIS. 205 

Yet shall the fact not pass without applause, % 

Of vengeance taken in so just a cause. 

The punish'd crime shall set my soul at ease, 

And murm'ring manes of my friends appease." 

Thus while I rave, a gleam of pleasing light 

Spread o'er the place ; and, shining heav'nly bright, 

My mother stood reveal'd before my sight — 

(Never so radiant did her eyes appear, 

Not her own star confeas'd a light so clear) — 

Great in her charms, as when on gods above 

She looks, and breathes herself into their love. 

She held my hand, the destin'd blow to break; 

Then from her rosy lips began to speak : 

" My son ! from whence this madness, this neglect 

Of my commands, and those whom 1 protect ? 

Why this unmanly rage ? Recall to mind 

Whom you forsake, what pledges leave behind. 

Look if your helpless father yet survive, 

Or if Ascanius or Creiisa live. 

Around your house the greedy Grecians err ; 

And these had perish'd in the nightly war, 

But for my presence and protecting care. 

Not Helen's face, nor Paris, was in fault : 

But by the gods was this destruction brought. 

Now cast your eyes around, while I dissolve 

The mists and films that mortal eyes involve, 

Purge from your sight the dross, and make you see 

The shape of each avenging deity. 

Enlighten'd thus, my just commands fulfil, 

Nor fear obedience to your mother's will. 

Where yon disorder'd heap of ruin lies, 

Stones rent from stones — where clouds of dust arise. 

Amid that smother, Neptune holds his place, 

Below the wall's foundation drives his mace, 

And heaves the building from the solid base. 

Look where, in arms, imperial Tuno stands 

Full in tl:' Seaman gate, with loud commands, 

Urging on shore the tardy Grecian hands. 



206 JENEIS. 



SeM Pallas, of her snaky buckler proud. 

Bestv 



Bestrides the tow'r refulgent through the cloud: 
See ! Jove new courage to the foe supplies, 
And arms against the town the partial deities. 
Haste hence, my son ! this fruitless labour end : 
Haste where your trembling spouse and sire attend: 
Haste ! and a mother's care your passage shall be- 
friend." 
She said, and swiftly vanished from my sight, 
Obscure in clouds, and gloomy shades of night 
I look'd ; 1 listen'd : dreadful sounds 1 hear ; 
And the dire forms of hostile gods appear. 
Troy sunk in flames I saw, (nor could prevent) 
And ilium from its old foundations rent — 
Rent like a mountain ash which dar'd the winds, 
And stood the sturdy strokes of lab'ring hinds. 
About the roots the cruel axe resounds: 
The stumps are pierc'd with oft-repeated wounds: 
The war is felt on high : the nodding crown 
Now threats a fall, and throws the leafy honours down. 
To their united force it yields, though late, 
And mourns with mortal groans th' approaching fate: 
The roots no more their upper load sustain ; 
But down she falls, and spreads a ruin through the plain. 
Descending thence, I 'scap'd through foes and fire: 
Before the goddess, foes and flames retire. 
Arriv'd at home, he, for whose only sake, 
Or most for his, such toils I undertake — 
The good Anchises— whom by timely flight, 
1 purpos'd to secure on Ida's height — 
Refus'd the journey, resolute to die, 
And add his fun'ral to the fate of Troy. 
Rather than exile and old age sustain. 
" Go you, whose blood runs warm in ev'ry vein. 
Had Heav'n decreed that 1 should life enjoy, 
Heav'n had decreed to save unhappy Troy. 
'Tis,.sure, enough, if not too much, for one, 
Twice to have seen our Ilium overthrown. 



.ENEIS 207 

Make baste to save the poor remaining crew ; 

And give this useless corpse a long adieu. 

These weak old hands suffice to stop my breath: 

At least the pitying foes will aid my death, 

To take my spoils, and leave my body bare: 

As for my sepulchre, let heav'n take care. 

'Tis long since I, for my celestial wife, 

Loatli r d by the god?, have dragg'd a lingering life • 

Since ev r ry hour and moment 1 expire, 

Blasted from heav'n by Jove's avenging fire.'" 

This oft repeated, he stood fix'd to die : 

Myself, my wife, my son, my family, 

Entreat, pray, beg, and raise a doleful cry — 

" What! will he still persist, on death resolve, 

And in his ruin all his house involve." 

He still persists his reason to maintain : 

Our pray'rs our tears, our loud laments, are vain. 

Urg'd by despair, again 1 go to try 
The fate of arms, resolv'd in fight to die. 
What hope remains but what my death must give ? 
"Can I, without so dear a father live? 
You term it prudence, what 1 baseness call: 
Could such a word from such a parent fall ? 
If Fortune please, and so the gods ordain, 
That nothing should of ruin'd Troy remain, 
And you conspire with Fortune to be slain ; 
The way to death is wide, th' approaches near: 
Nor soon relentless Pyrrhus will appear, 
Reeking with Priam's blood —the wretch who slew 
The son (inhuman) in the father's view, 
And then the sire himself to the dire altar drew. 
O goddess mother ! give me back to Fate ; 
Your gift was undesir'd, and came too late. 
Did you, for this, unhappy me convey 
Through foes and fires to see my house a prey? 
Shall I my father, wife, and son behold, 
Welt'ring in blood, each other's arms infold ? 



Haste ! gird my sword, though spent, and overcome. 

,r Fis the last summons to receive our doom. 

1 hear thee, Fate ! and 1 obey thy call ! 

Not uureveng'd the foe shall see my fall. 

Restore me to the yet unfinish'd fight: 

My death is wanting to conclude the night." 

A rmVl once again, my glittering sword i wield, 

VVlnle th' other hand sustains my weighty shield ; 

And forth I rush to seek the abandon'd field. 

1 went ; but sad Creiisa stopp'd my way, 

And 'cross the threshold in my passage lay, 

Kiqbrac'd my knees, and, when 1 would have gone 

Show'd me my feeble sire, and tender son. 

"If death be your design — at least," said she, 

" Take us along to share your destiny. 

if any further hopes in arms remain, 

This place, these pledges of your love, maintain. 

To whom do you expose your father's life, 

\ our son's, and mine: your now forgotten wife?" 

While thus she fills the house with clam'rous cries, 

( *ur hearing is diverted by our eyes: 

For, while I held my son, in the short space 

Betwixt our kisses and our last embrace, 

(Strange to relate!) from young Iulius' head, 

A lambent flame arose, which gently spread 

Around his brows, and on his temples fed. 

Amaz'd, with running water we prepare 

To quench the sacred fire, and slake his hair j 

But old Anchises, vers-d in omens, rear'd 

His hands to heav'n, and this request preferr'd : 

<; If any vows, almighty Jove, can bend 

Thy will — if piety can pray'rs commend — 

Confirm the glad presage which thou art pleas'd to 

send." 
Scarce had he said, when on our left we hear 
A peal of rattling thunder roll in air : 
There shot a streaming lamp along the sky, 
Which on the winged lightning seenrd to fly ; 



ANfclS. 209 

From o'er the roof the blaze began to move, 
And, trailing, vanished in th' idsean grove. 
It swept a path in heav'n, and shone a guide, 
Then in a steeming stench of sulphur died. 

The good old man with suppliant hands implor'd 
The god's protection, and their star ador'd. 
" Now, now," said he, " my son, no more delay ! 
I yield, I follow where heav'n shows the way. 
Keep, (O my country gods !) our dwelling place, 
And guard this relic of the Trojan race, 
This tender child ! — these omens are your own ; 
And you can yet restore the ruin'd town. 
At least accomplish what your signs foreshow: 
I stand resign'd, and am prepar'd to go." 

He said. — The crackling flames appear on high ; 
And driving sparkles dance along the sky. 
With Vulcan's rage the rising winds conspire, 
And near our palace rolls the flood of fire. 
" Haste my dear father ! ('tis no time to wait) 
And load my shoulders with a willing freight. 
What e'er befalls, your life shall be my care : 
One death, or one deliv'rance we will share. 
My hand shall lead our little son$ and y^u, 
My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue. 
Next you, my servants, heed my strict commands: 
Without the walls a ruin'd temple stands, 
To Ceres hallow'd once : a cypress nigh 
Shoots up her venerable head on high, 
By long religion kept: there bend your feet; 
And in divided parties let us meet. 
Our country gods, the relics, and the bands, 
Hold you, my father, in your guiltless hands: 
In me 'tis impious, holy things to bear, 
Red as I am with slaughter, new from war, 
Till in some living stream I cleanse the guilt 
Of dire debate, and blood in battle spilt."' 
Thus ord'ring all that prudence could provide, 
1 clothe my shoulders with a lion's hide, 

vol. a. 14 



210 ^NEIS. 

And yeilow spoils', then on my bending back, 

The welcome load of my dear father take ; 

While on my better hand Ascanius hung, 

And with unequal paces tript along. 

Creiisa kept behind : by choice we stray 

Through ev'ry dark and ev'ry devious way. 

I, who so oold and dauntless, just before, 

The Grecian darts and shock of lances bore, 

At ev'ry shadow now am seiz'd with fear, 

Not for myself, but for the charge I bear ; 

Till, near the ruin'd gate arriv'd at last, 

Secure, and deeming all the danger past, 

A frightful noise of trampling feet we hear. 

My father, looking through the shades with fear, 

Cried out, " Haste, haste, my son ! the foes are nigh ,' 

Their swords and shining armour I descry." 

Some hostile god, for some unknown offence, 

Had sure bereft my mind of better sense: 

For, while through winding ways I took my flight, 

And sought the shelter of the gloomy night, 

Alas! I lost Creiisa: hard to tell 

If by her fatal destiny she fell, 

Or weary sate, or wander'd with affright; 

But she was lost for ever to my sight. 

1 knew not, or reflected, till I meet 

My friends at Ceres' now deserted seat. 

We met ; not one was wanting ; only she 

Deceived her friends, her son, and wretched me. 

What mad expressions did my tongue refuse ? 

Whom did 1 not of gods or men accuse ? 

This was the fatal blow, that pain'd me more 

Than ah 1 felt from ruin'd Troy before. 

Stung with my loss, and raving with despair, 

Abandoning my now forgotten care, 

Of counsel, comfort, and of hope bereft, 

My sire, my son, my country gods, I left. 

In shining aimour once again I sheathe 

&iy limbs not fee] ;ug wounds, nor fearing death. 



.EiVEis. 211 

Then headlong to the burning walls I run, 

And seek the danger I was forc'd to shun. 

I tread my former tracks, through night explore 

Each passage, ev'ry street 1 cross' d before, 

All things were full of horror and affright, 

And dreadful e'en the silence of the night. 

Then to my father's house I make repair, 

With some small glimpse of hope to find her there* 

Instead of her, the cruel Greeks I met : 

The house was fVU'd with foes, with flames beset. 

Driv'n on the wings of winds, whole sheets of fire, 

Through air transported, to the roofs aspire 

From thence to Priam's palace I resort, 

And search the citadel, and desert court. 

Then, unobserv'd, [ pass by Juno's church : 

A guard of Grecians had possess'd the porch ; 

There Phoenix and Ulysses watch the prey: 

And thither all the wealth of Troy convey — 

The spoils which they from ransack'd houses brought, 

And golden bowls from burning altars caught, 

The tables of the gods, the purple vests, 

The people's treasure, and the pomp of priests. 

A rank of wretched youths, with pinion'd hands, 

And captive matrons, in long order stands. 

Then, with ungovern'd madness, 1 proclaim, 

Through all the silent streets Creiisa's name: 

Creiisa still I call: at length she hears, 

And sudden, through the shades of night, appears — 

Appears, no more Creiisa, r.or my wife, 

But a pale spectre; larger than the life. 

Aghast, astonish'd, and struck dumb with fear, 

1 stood : like bristles rose my stiffen'd hair. 

Then thus the ghost began to sooth my grief: 

44 !Vor tears, nor cries, can give the dead relief, 

Desist, my much-lov'd lord, t' indulge your pain: 

You bear no more than what the gods ordain. 

My fates permit me not from hence to fly; 

Nor h«j, the great controller of the sky. 



212 JSNEIS. 

Long wand'ring ways for you the pow'rs decree — 

On land hard labours, and a length of sea. 

Then, after many painful years are past, 

On Latium's happy shore you shall be cast, 

Where gentle Tyber from his bed beholds 

The rlow'ry meadows, and the feeding folds. 

There end your toils; and there your fates provide 

A quiet kingdom and a royal bride: 

There fortune shall the Trojan line restore ; 

And you for lost Creiisa weep no more. 

Fear not that I shall watch with servile shame, 

Th? imperious looks of some proud Grecian daine, 

Or, stooping to the victor's lust, disgrace 

My goddess mother, or my royal race. 

And now, farewell ? the parent of the gods 

Restrains my fleeting soul in her abodes, 

I trust our common issue to >our care." 

She said, and gliding pass'd unseen in air. 

I strove to speak : but horror tied my tongue : 

And thrice about her neck my arms I flung. 

And thrice deceiv'd, on vain embraces hung. 

Light as an empty dream at break of day, 

Or as a blast of wind, she rush'd away. 

Thus having pass'd the night in fruitless pain, 
I to my longing friends return again — 
Amaz'd th' augmented number to behold, 
Of men and matrons mix'd, of young and old — 
A wretched exil'd crew together brought, 
With arms appointed, and with treasure fraught, 
Resolv'd, and willing, under my command, 
To run all hazards both of sea and land. 
The Morn began, from Ida, to display 
Her rosy cheeks ; and Phosphor led the day; 
Before the gates the Grecians took their post, 
And all pretence of late relief was lost. 
I yield to Fate, unwillingly retire, 
And, loaded, up the hill convey my sire. 



M N E I S. 



BOOK ill. 



ARGUMENT. 

/Kneas proceeds in his relation : he gives an account of th« 
fleer with which he sailed, and the success of his first voyage 
to Thrace. From thence he directs his course to Delos and 
asks the oracle what place the gods had appointed for his 
habitation ? By a mistake of the oracle's answer, he settles 
in Crete. His household gods give him the true sense of the 
oracle, in a dream. He follows their advice, and makes the 
best of his way for Italy. He is cast on several shores, and 
meets with very surprising adventures, till at length he lands 
on Sicily, where his father Anchises dies. This is the place 
which he was sailing from, when the tempest rose, and threw 
him upon the Carthaginian coast. 



YV HEN heav'n had overturn'd the Trojan state, 
And Priam's throne, by too severe a fate ; 
When ruin'd Troy became the Grecian's prey, 
And Ilium's lofty tow'rs in ashes lay ; 
Warn'd by celestial omens, we retreat, 
To seek in foreign lands a happier seat. 
Near old Antandros, and at Ida's foot, 
The timber of the sacred groves we cut, 
And build our fleet — uncertain yet to find 
What place the gods for our repose assign'd. 
Friends daily flock ; and scarce the kindly spring 
Began to clothe the ground, and birds to sing, 



214 JENEIS. 

When old Anchises summoned all to sea: 
The crew my father and the Fates obey. 
With sighs and tears \ leave my native shore, 
And empty fields, where Ilium stood before. 
My sire, my son, our less and greater gods, 
All sail at once, and cleave the brmy floods. 

Against our coast appears a spacious land, 
Which once the fierce Lycurgus did command, 
(Thracia the name — the people bole! in war- 
Vast are their fields, and tillage is their care) 
A hospitable realm, while Fate was kind, 
With Troy in friendship and religion joinM. 
1 land, with luckless omens; then adore 
Their gods, and draw a line along the shore: 
I lay the deep foundations of a wall, 
And JKnos, nam'd from me, the city call. 
To Dionrean Venus vows are paid, 
And all the pow'rs that rising labours aid ; 
A bull on Jove's imperial altar laid. 
Not far, arising hillock stood in view: 
Sharp myrtles, on the sides, and cornels grew. 
There, while J went to crop the sylvan scenes, 
And shade our altar with their leafy greens, 
I pull'd a plant — with horror 1 relate 
A prodigy so strange, and full of fate — 
The rooted fibres rose ; and, from the wound, 
Black bloody drops distill'd upon the ground. 
Mute and amaz'd, my hair with terror stood, 
Fear shrunk my sinews, and congeaPd my blood. 
Man'd once again, another plant I try : 
That other gush'd with the same sanguine die. 
Then, fearing guilt for some offence unknown, 
With pray'rs and vows the Dryads I atone, 
With all the sisters of the woods, and most 
The god of arms, who rules the Thracian coast- 
That they, or he, these omens would avert, 
Release our fears, and better signs impart. 



iENEIS. 215 

Cleared, as I thought, and fully fix'd at length 

To learn the cause, I tugg'd with all my strength: 

1 bent my knees against the ground : once more 

The violated myrtle ran with gore. 

Scarce dare I tell the sequel : from the womb 

Of wounded earth, and caverns of the tomb, 

A groan, as of a troubled ghost, renew'd 

My fright, and then these dreadful words ensu'd : 

Why dost thou thus my oury'd body rend ? 

O spare the corpse of thy unhappy friend ! 

Spare to pollute thy pious hands with blood : 

The tears distil not from the wounded wood ; 

But ev'ry drop this living tree contains, 

Is kindred blood, and ran in Trojan veins. 

O ! fly from this unhospitable shore, 

Waru'd by my fate, for I am Polydore ! 

Here loads of lances, in my blood embru'd 

Again shoot upward, by my blood renew'd." 

My faultering tongue and shivering limbs declare 
My horror; and in bristles rose my hair. 
When Troy with Grecian arms was closely pent, 
Old Priam, fearful of the war's event, 
This hapless Polydore to Thracia sent: 
Loaded with gold, he sent his darling, far 
From noise and tumults, and destructive war ; 
Committed to the faithiess tyrant's care; 
Who, when he saw the pow'r of Troy decline, 
Forsook the weaker, with the strong to join — 
Broke ev'ry bond of nature and of truth, 
And murder'd, for his wealth, the royal youth. 

sacred hunger of pernicious gold ! 

What bands of faith can impious lucre hold ? 
Now, when my soul had shaken off her fears, 

1 call my father, and the Trojan peers — 
B elate tha prodigies of heav'n — require 
What he commands, and their advice desire. 

All vote to leave that execrable shore, ^ 

Polluted with the blood of Polydore ; 



216 iENEIS. 

But, ere we sail, his fun'ral rites prepare, 
Then, to his ghost, a tomb and altars rear. 
In mournful pomp the matrons walk the round, 
With baleful cypress, and blue fillets bound, 
With ''yes dejected, and with hair unbound. 
Then bowls of tepid milk and blood we pour, 
And thrice invoke the soul of Polydore. 
Now, when the raging storms no longer reign, 
But southern gales invite us to t,\e main, 
We launch our vessels, with a prosp'rous wind, 
And leave the cities and the shores behind. 

An island in the iEgsean main appears: 
Neptune and watery Doris claim it theirs. 
It floated once, till Phoebus fix'd the sides 
To rooted earth; and now it braves the tides. 
Here, borne by friendly winds, we come ashore, 
With needful ease our weary limbs restore, 
And the Sun's temple, and his town adore. 

Anius, the priest and king, with laurel crown'd, 
His hoary locks with purple fillets bound, 
Who saw my sire the Delian shore ascend, 
Came forth with eager haste to meet his friend ; 
invites him to his palace ; and, in sign 
Of ancient love, their plighted hands they join. 
Then to the temple of the god I went, 
And thus before the shrine, my vows present: 
" Give, O Thymbrjeus! give a resting place 
To the sad relics of the Trojan race — 
A seat secure, a region of their own, 
A lasting empire, and a happier town. 
Where shall we fix? where shall our labours end? 
Whom shall we follow, and what fate attend ? 
Let not my pray'rs a doubtful answer find ; 
But in clear auguries unveil thy mind." 
Scarce had I said : he shook the holy ground, 
The laurels, and the lofty hills around ; 
And from the tripos rush'd a bellowing sound. 



MNE1S. 217 

Prostrate we fell ; confessed the present god, 

Who gave this answer from his dark abode: 

" Undaunted youths ! go, seek that nobler earth 

From which our ancestors derive their birth. 

The soil that sent you forth, her ancient race, 

In her old bosom shall again embrace. . 

Through the wide world th' iEnein house shau reign, 

And children's children shall the crown sustain." 

Thus Phoebus did our future fates disclose: 

A mighty tumult, mix'd with joy, arose. 

All are concerned to know what place the god 

Assign'd, and where determin'd our abode. 

My father, long revolving in his mind 

The race and lineage of the Trojan kind 

Thus answer'd their demands ; " Ye princes, hear 

Your pleasing fortune ; and dispel your fear. 

The fruitful isle of Crete, well known to fame* 

Sacred of old, to Jove's imperial name, 

In the mid ocean lies, with large command ; 

And oi» its plains a hundred cities stand. 

Another Ida rises there ; and we 

From thence derive our Trojan ancestry. 

From thence, as 'tis divulg'd by certain fame, 

To the Rhoetean shores old Teucer came ; 

There fix'd, and there the seat of empire, chose, 

Ere Ilium and the Trojan uw'rs arose. 

In humble vales they built .heir soft abodes ; 

Till Cybele, the mother of the gods, 

With tinkling cymbals charm'd th' Idsean woods, 

She secret rights and ceremonies taught, 

And to the yoke the savage lions brought. 

Let us the land, which heav'n appoints, explore ; 

Appease the winds and seek the Gnossian shore. 

!f Jove assists the passage of our fleet, 

The third propitious dawn discovers Crete." 

Thus having said, the sacrifices laid 

On smoking altars, to the gods he paid — v 



218 JENEIS. 

A bull, to Neptune an oblation due, 

Another bull to bright Apollo slew — 

A milk-white ewe, the western winds to please, 

And one coal-black ; to calm the stormy seas. 

Ere this, a flying rumour had been spread, 

That fierce Idomeneus from the Crete was fled, 

Expell'd and exiPd ; that the coast was free 

From foreign or domestic enemy. 

We leave the Delian ports, and put to sea ; 

By Naxos, 1'am'd for vintage, make our way r 

Then Green Donysa pass; and sail in sight 

Of Faros' isle, with marble quarries white. 

We pass the scatter'd isles of Cyclades, 

That, scarce distinguish'd, seem to stud the seas. 

The shouts of sailors double near the shores ; 

They stretch their canvas, and they ply their oars. 

" All hands aloft? for Crete ! for Crete!" they cry, 

And swiftly through the foamy billows fly. 

Full on the promis'd land at length we bore, 

Wilh joy descending en the Cretan shore. 

With eager haste a rising town 1 frame, 

Which from the Trojan Pergamus I name: 

The name itself was grateful : 1 exhort 

To found their houses and erect a fort. 

Oar ships are haul'd upon the yellow strand: 

The youth begin to till the laboured land ; 

A I myself new marriages promote, 

Give laws ; and dwellings I divide by lot; 

When rising vapours choke the wholesome air, 

And blasts of noisome winds corrupt the year: 

The trees devouring caterpillars burn : 

Farch'd was the grass, and blighted was the corn 

Nor 'scape the beasts: for Sirius, from on high, 

With pestilential heat infects the sky : 

My men — some fall, the rest in fevers fry. 

Again my father bids me seek the shore 

Of sacred Delos, and the god implore, 

To learn what end of woes we might expect, 

And to what clime our weary course direct. 



219 



'Twas night, when evTy creature, void of cares, 
The common gift of balmy slumber shares: 
The statues of my gods, (lor such they seem'd) 
Those gods whom 1 from flaming Troy redeem'd, 
Before me stood, majestically bright, 
Full in the beams of Phoebe's ent'ring light. 
Then thus they spoke, and eas'd my troubled mind : 
4 What from the Delian god thou go'st to find, 
He tells thee here, and sends us to relate. 
Those pow'rs are we, companions of thy fate, 
Who from the burning town by thee were brought, 
Thy fortune followed, and thy safety wrought. 
Through seas and lands as we thy steps attend, 
So shall our care thy glorious race befriend. 
An ample realm for thee thy fates ordain, 
A town, that o'er the conquer'd world shall reign. 
Thou mighty walls for mighty nations build ; 
Nor let thy weary mind to labours yield : 
But change thy seat, for not the Delian god, 
Nor we, have giv'n thee Crete for your abode. 
A land there is, Hesperia call'd of old, 
(The soil is fruitful, and the natives bold — 
Th' (Enotrians held it once) by later fame, 
Now call'd Italia, from the leader's name, 
lasius there, and Dardanus, were born. 
From thence we came, and thither must return. 
Rise, and thy sire with these glad tidings greet. 
Search Italy; for Jove denies thee Crete." 

Astonished at their voices and their sight, 
(Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night; 
1 saw, I knew their faces, and descried, 
In perfect view, their hair with fillets tied) 
I started from my couch ; a clammy sweat 
On all my limbs, and shiv'ring body, sate. 
To heav'n 1 lift my hands with pious haste, 
And sacred incense in the flames I cast. 
Thus to the gods their perfect honours done, 
More cheerful to my good old sire 1 run, 



220 jENEIS. 

And tell the pleasing news. In little space 

lie found his error of the double race, 

Not, as before he deem'd, deriv'd from Crete ; 

No more deluded by the doubtful seat; 

Then said, " O son, turmoil'd in Trojan fate ! 

Such things as these Cassandra did relate. 

This day revives within my mind, what she 

Foretold of Troy renew'd in Italy, 

And Latian lands: but who could then have thought 

That Phrygian gods to Latium should be brought, 

Or who believ'd what mad Cassandra taught ? 

Now let us go where Phoebus leads the way." 

Me said ; and we with glad consent obey. 

Forsake the seat; and, leaving few behind, 

We spread our sails before the willing wind. 

Now from the sight of land our galleys move, 

With only seas around and skies above ; 

When o'er our heads descends a burst of rain, 

And night with sable clouds involves the main: 

The ruffling winds the foamy billows raise : 

The scatter' d fleet is forc'd to sev'ral ways : 

The face of heav'n is ravish'd from our eyes ; 

And in redoubled peals the roaring thunder flies. 

Cast from our course, we wander in the dark; 

No stars to guide, no point of land to mark. 

F'en Palinurus no distinction found 

Betwixt the night and day; such darkness reign'd around, 

Three starless nights the doubtful navy strays, 

Without distinction, and three sunless days: 

The fourth renews the light ; and from our shrouds 

We view arising land, like distant clouds: 

The mountain-tops confirm the pleasing sight, 

And curling smoke ascending from their height. 

The canvas falls ; their oars the sailors ply ; 

From the rude strokes the whirling waters fly. 

At length I land upon the Strophades, 

Safe from the danger of the stormy seas. 



JENEIS. 221 

Those Isles are compass'd by th' Ionian main; 
The dire abode where the foul Harpies reign, 
Forc'd by the wing'd warriors to repair 
To their old homes, and leave their costly fare. 
Monsters more fierce offended heav'n ne'er sent 
From hell's aoyss for human punishment — 
With virgin faces, but with wombs obscene, 
Foul paunches, and with odour still unclean : 
With claws for hands, and looks for ever lean. 

We landed at the port, and soon beheld 
Fat herds of oxen graze the flow'ry field : 
And wanton goats without a keeper strayVl. 
With weapons we the welcome prey invade, 
Then call the gods for partners of our feast, 
And Jove himself, the chief invited guest. 
We spread the table on the greensward ground : 
We feed with hunger : and the bowls go round ; 
When from the mountain-tops, with hideous cry, 
And clattering wings the hungry Harpies fly : 
They snatch the meat, defiling all they find, 
And, parting, leave a loathsome stench behind, 
Close by a hollow rock, again we sit 
New dress the dinner, and the beds relit, 
Secure from sight, beneath a pleasing shade, 
Where tufted trees a native arbour made, 
Again the holy fires on altars burn ; 
And once again the rav'nous birds return, 
Or from the dark recesses where they lie, 
Or from another quarter of the sky — 
With filthy claws their odious meal repeat, 
And mix their loathsome ordures with their meat. 
I bid my friends for vengeance then prepare, 
And with the hellish nation wage the war. 
They, as commanded, for the fight provide, 
And in the grass their glitfring weapons hide: 
Then, when along the crooked shore we hear 
Their clattering wings, and saw the foes appear 



222 JENEIS. 

Misenus sounds the charge: we take th' alarm, 

And our strong arms with swords and bucklers arm. 

In this new kind of combat, all employ 

Their utmost force, the monsters to destroy — 

In vain: the fated skin is proof to wounds; 

And from their plumes the shining sword rebounds. 

At length rebuff'd, they leave their mangled prey, 

And their stretched pinions to the skies display. 

Yet one remained — the messenger of Fate, 

High on a craggy cliff Celaeno sate, 

And thus her dismal errand did relate: 

" What? not contented with your oxen slain, 

Dare you with heav'n an impious war maintain, 

And drive the Harpies from their native reign ? 

Heed, therefore, what 1 say ; and keep in mind 

What Jove decrees, what Phoebus has design'd, 

And I, the Furies' queen from both relate — 

You seek th' Italian shores, foredoom'd by Fate : 

Th' Italian shores are granted you to find, 

And a safe passage to the fori assigned. 

But know, that, e're your promis'd walls you build, 

My curses shall severely be fulfill'd. 

Fierce famine is your lot — for this misdeed, 

Reduc'd to grind the plates on which you feed." 

She said, and to the neighb'ring forest flew. 

Our courage fails us, and our fears renew. 

Hopeless to win by war, to pray'rs we fall, 

And on the offended Harpies humbly call, 

And (whether gods or birds obscene they, were) 

Our vows, for pardon and for peace, prefer. 

But old Anchises, off'ring sacrifice, 

And lifting up to heav'n his hands and eyes, 

Ador'd the greater gods — " Avert," said he, 

" These omens ! render vain this prophecy, 

And from th' impending curse a pious people free.* 1 

Thus having said, he bids us put to sea ; 

We loose from shore our halsers, and obey, 

And soon with swelling sails pursue our wat'ry way. 



Am'dst our course, Zacynthian woods appear , 

And next by rocky Neritos we steer: 

We fly from Ithaca's detested shore, 

And curse the land which dire Ulysses bore. 

At length Leucate's cloudy top appears, 

And the Sun's temple which the sailors fears. 

Resolv'd to breathe awhile from labours past, 

Our crooked anchors from the prow we cast, 

And joyful to the little city haste. 

Here, safe beyond our hopes, our vows we pay 

To Juve, the guide and patron of our way. 

Tilt customs of our country we pursue, 

And Trojan games, and Action shores renew. 

Our youth their naked limbs besmear with oil, 

And exercise the wrestlers' noble toil — 

Pleas'd to have sail'd so long before the wind, 

And left so many Grecian towns behind. 

The sun had now fulrill'd his annual course, 

And Boreas on the seas displayed his force: 

I fix'd upon the temple's lofty door 

The brazen shield which vanquish'd Abas bore: 

The verse beneath my name and action speaks: 

M These arms J^neas took from conqu'ring Greeks." 

Then I command to weigh : the seamen ply 

Their sweeping oars, the smoking billows ifiy. 

Tne sight of high Phceacia soon we lost, 

And skimm'd along Epirus' rocky coast. 

Then to Chaonia's port our course we bend, 

And, landed, to Buthrotus' heights ascend. 

Flere wond'rous things we'e loudly blaz'ri by Fame— ■ 

How Helenus reviv'd the Trojan name, 

And reign'd in Greece ; that Priam's captive son 

Succeeded Pyrrhus in his bed and throne; 

And fair Andromache, restored by Fate, 

Once more was happy in a Trojan mate. 

I leave my galleys rioir.g in the port, 

And long to see tne new Dardanian court. 



£24 JENEIS. 

Bv chance, the mournful queen, before the gate, 
Then solemniz'd her former husband's fate. 
Green altars, raii'd of turf, with gifts she crown'd; 
And sacred priests in order stand around, 
And thrice the name of hapless Hector sound 
The grove itself resembles Ida's woods ; 
And Simoi's seem'd the well-dissembled flood. 
But when, at nearer distance, she beheld 
My shining armour, and my Trojan shield, 
Astonish'd at the sight, the vital heat 
Forsook her limbs, her veins no longer beat: 
She faints, she falls, and scarce recovering strength, 
Thus, with a faultering tongue, she speaks at lengt- 
44 Are you alive, O goddess-born ?" she said, 
" Or, if a ghost, then where is Hector's shade ? 
At this she cast a loud and frightful cry. — 
With broken words 1 made this brief reply: 
44 All of me that remains, appears in sight ; 
I live ; if living be to loathe the light- 
No phantom ; but I drag a wretched life ; 
My fate resembling that of Hector's wife. 
What have you suffer d since you lost your lord ' 
By what strange blessing are you now restur'd ? 
Still are you Hector's? or is Hector fled, 
And his remembrance lost in Pyrrhus' bed ?" 
With eyes dejected, in a lowly tone, 
After a modest pause, she thus begun : 
44 Oh, only happy maid of Priam's race, 
Whom death deliver* d from the foe's embrace ! 
Commanded on Achilles' tomb to die, 
Nor rorc'd, like us, to hard captivity, 
Or in a haughty master's arms to lie. 
In Grecian snips, unhappy we were borne, 
Endur'd the victor's lust, sustain'd the scorn: 
Thus I submitted to the lawless pride 
Of Pyrrhus, more a handmaid than a bride 
Cioy'd with possession, he forsook my bed, 
And Helen's lovely daughter sought to wed ; 



jsneis. 5*25 

Then me to Trojan Helenus resignM, 
And his two slaves in equal marriage join'd; 
Till young Orestes, pierc'd with deep despair, 
And longing to redeem the promis'd fair, 
Before Apollo's altar slew the ravisher. 
By Pyrrhus death the kingdom we regain'd; 
At least one half with Helenus remain'd. 
Our part, from Chaon, he Chaonia calls, 
And names from Pergamus his rising walls, 
But you what Fates have landed on our coast? 
What gods have sent you, or what storms have toss'd? 
Does young Ascanius life and health enjoy, 
Sav'd from the ruins of unhappy Troy? 
O ! tell me how his mother's loss he bears, 
What hopes are promis'd from his blooming years. 
How much of Hector in his face appears?" 
She spoke : and mix'd her speech with mournful cnes; 
And fruitless tears came trickling from her eyes. 
At length her lord descends upon the plain, 
In pomp, attended with a num'rous train ; 
Receives his friends, and to the city leads, 
And tears of joy amidst his welcome sheds. 
Proceeding on, another Trov' 1 see, 
Or, in less compass, Troy's epitome. 
A riv'let by the name of Xanthus ran ; 
And I embrace the Sceean gate again, 
My friends in porticoes were entertain'd ; 
And feasts and pleasures through the city reign'd. 
The tables fill'd the spacious hall around : 
And golden bowls with sparkling wine were crown'd. 
Two days we pass'd in mirth, till friendly gales, 
Blown from the south, snpplyM our swelling sails. 
Then to the royal seer T thus began : 
" O thou who know'st, beyond the reach of man, 
The laws of heav'n, and what the stars decree, 
W 7 hom Phoebus caught unerring prophecy, 
From his own tripod, and his holy tree — 
roL. u 15 



226 MHFA9. 

Skill'd in the wingM inhabitants of air, 

What auspices their notes and flights declare— 

O ! say — for all religious rites portend 

A happy voyage and a p.osp'rous end ; 

And ev'ry pow'i and omen of tho sky 

Direct my course for destin'd Italy ; 

But only dire Celaeno, from the gods, 

A dismal famine fatally forbodes — 

O ! say, what dangers I am first to shun, 

What toils to vanquish, and what course to run." 

The prophet first with sacrifice adores 
The greater gods ; their pardon then implores ; 
Unbinds tne fillet from his holy head; 
To Phoebus, next, my trembling steps he led, 
Full of religious doubts and awful dread. 
Then, with his god possess'd, before the shrine, 
These words proceeded from his mouth divine : 
" O goddess born ! (for heavVs appointed will, 
With greater auspices of good than ill, 
Foreshows thy voyage, and thy course directs: 
Thy fates conspire, and Jove himself protects) 
Of many things some few I shall explain, 
Teach thee to shun the dangers of the main, 
And how at length the prom is 1 d shore to gain. 
The rest the Fates from Helenus conceal, 
And Juno's angry pow'r forbids to tell. 
First, then, that happy shore, that seems so i.igh, 
Will far from your deluded wishes fly: 
Long tracts of seas divide your hopes from Italy: 
For you must cruise along Sicilian snores, 
And stem the currents with your struggling oars ; 
Then round th' Italian coast your navy steer, 
And, after this, to Circe's island veer; 
And, last, before your new foundations rise, 
Must pass the Stygian lake, and view the nether skies. 
Now mark the s*gns of future ease and rest ; 
And bear them safely treasured in thy breast. 



JENEIS. 227 

When, in the shady shelter of a wood, 

And near the margin of a gentle flood. 

Thou shalt behold a sow upon the ground, 

With thirty sucking young encompassM roun^ 

The dam and offspring white as falling snow — 

These on thy city shall their name bestow ; 

And there shall end thy labours and thy wo. 

Nor let the threaten'd famine fright thy mind : 

For Phoebus will assist ; and Fate the way will find. 

Let not thy course to that ill coast be bent, 

Which fronts from far th' Epirian continent : 

Those parts are ail by Grecian foes possess'd. 

The savage Locrians here the shores infest : 

Their fierce Idomeneus his city builds, 

And guards with arms the Salentinian fields; 

And on the mountain's brow Petilla stands, 

Which Philoctetes with his troops commands. 

E'en when thy fleet is landed on the shore, 

And priests with holy vows the gods adore, 

Then with a purple veil involve your eyes, 

Lest hostile faces blast the sacrifice. 

These rites and customs to the rest commend, 

That to your pious race they may descend. 

When, parted hence, the winds that ready waits 
For Sicily, shall bear you to the straits 
Where proud Pelorus opes a wider way, 
Tack tn the larboard, and stand off to sea : 
Veer starboard sea and land. Th' Italian shore, 
And fair Sicilia's coast, were one, before 
An earthquake caus'd the flaw : the roaring tides 
The passage broke, that land from land divides ; 
And, where the lands retir'd, the rushing ocean 

rides. 
Distinguished by the straits, on either hand, 
Now rising cities in long order stand, 
And fruitful fields: so much can time invade 
Th' inould'ring work, that beauteous nature made. 



228 ANfjis. 

Far on the right, her dogs fair Scylla hides : 

Charybdis roaring on the left presides, 

And in her greedy whirlpool sucks the tiaes: 

Then spouts them from below : with fury driv'n. 

The waves mount up, and wash the face of heav'n. 

But Scylla from her den, with open jaws, 

The sinking vessel in her eddy draws, 

Then dashes on the rocks. — A human face, 

And virgin bosom hides her tail's disgrace ; 

Her parts obscene below the waves descend, 

With dogs enclosed ; and in a dolphin end. 

'Tis safer then to bear aloof to sea, 

And coast Pachynus, though with more delay, 

Than once to view mis-shapen Scylla near, 

And the loud yells of wat'ry wolves to hear. 

Besides, if faith to Helenus be due, 
And if prophetic Phoebus tell me true, 
Do not this precept of your friend forget, 
Which therefore more than once I must repeat: 
Above the rest, great Juno's name adore ; 
Pay vows to Juno ; J vino's aid implore. 
Let gifts be to the mighty queen design'd ; 
And mollify with pray'rs her haughty mind. 
Thus, at the length, your passage shall be free, 
And you shall safe descend on Italy. 
Arriv'd at Cumae, when you view the flood 
Of black Avernus, and the sounding wood, 
The mad prophetic Sibyl you shall find, 
Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclin'd. 
She sings the Fates, and, in her frantic fits, 
The notes and names, inscrib'd, to leaves commits. 
What she commits to leaves, in order laid, 
Before the cavern's entrance are display'd : 
Unmov'd they lie: but, if a blast of wind 
Without, or vapours issue from behind, 
The leaves are borne aloft in liquid air; 
And she resumes no more her museful care, 



AIVEJS. 229 

Nor gathers from the rocks her scatter' d verse, 
Nor sets in order what the winds disperse. 
Thus many, not succeeding, must upbraid 
The madness of the visionary maid, 
And with lwiid curses leave the mystic shade. 

Think it not loss of time a while to stay, 
Though thy companions chide thy long delay; 
Tho' summon'd to the seas, tho' pleasing gales 
Invite thy course, and stretch thy swelling sails: 
But beg the sacred priestess to relate 
With willing words, and not to write thy fate. 
The fierce Italian people she will show, 
And all thy wars, and all thy future wo, 
And what thou mayst avoid, and what must un- 
dergo. 
She shall direct thy course, instruct thy mind, 
And teach thee how the happy shores to find. 
This is what heav'n allows me to relate : 
Now part in peace ; pursue, thy better fate, 
And raise, by strength of arms, the Trojan state.-' 

This when the priest with friendly voice dcclar'd, 
He gave me license, and rich gifts prepar'd : 
Bounteous of treasure, he supplied my want 
With heavy gold, and polish'd elephant, 
Then Dodomean caldrons put on board, 
And ev'ry ship with sums of silver stor'd. 
A trusty coat of mail to me he sent, 
Thrice chain'd with gold, for use and ornament; 
The helm of Pyrrhus added to the rest, 
That flourishM with a plume and waving crest. 
Nor was my sire forgotten, nor my friends: 
And large recruits he to my navy sends — 
Men, horses, captains, arms, and warlike stores; 
Supplies new pilots, and new sweeping oars. 
Meantime, my sire commands to hoist our sails, 
Lest we should lose the first auspicious gales. 
The prophet bless' d the parting crew, and last, 
With words like these, his ancient friend embrae'd: 



230 J2NEIS. 

•' Old happy man, the care of gods above, 
Whom heav'nly Venus honoured with her love, 
And twice preserv'd thy life when Troy was lost! 
Behold from far the wish'd Ausonian coast: 
There land ; but take a larger compass round ; 
For that before is all forbidden ground. 
The shore that Phoebus has design'd for you, 
Ai further distance lies, conceal'd from view. 
Go happy hence, and seek your new abodes, 
Bless' d in a son, and favoured by the gods : 
For I with useless words prolong your stay, 
When southern gales have summoned you away." 

Nor less the queen our parting thence deplored, 
Nor was less bounteous than her Trojan lord. 
A noble present to my son she brought ; 
A robe with flow'rs on golden tissue wrought. 
A Phrygian vest ; and loads with gifts beside 
Of precious texture, and of Asian pride, 
11 Accept," she said, u these monuments of love, 
Which in my youth with happier hands I wove: 
Regard these trifles for the giver's sake ; 
'Tis the last present Hector's wife can make. 
Thou call'st my lost Astyanax to mind : 
In thee, his features and his form I find. 
His eyes so sparkled with a lively flame ; 
Such were his motions; such was all his frame.; 
And ah ! had heav'n so pleas'd, his years had been 
the same." 

W 7 ith tears I took my last adieu, and said, 
" Your fortune, happy pair, already made, 
Leaves you no further wish. My dift'rent state, 
Avoiding one, incurs another fate. 
To you a quiet seat the gods allow : 
You have no shores to search, no seas to plough. 
Nor fields of flying Italy to chase — 
Deluding visions, and a vain embrace ! 
You see another Simois, and enjoy 
The labour of your hands, another Troy, 



With better auspice than her ancient tow'rs, 
Aar* less obnoxious to the Grecian pow'rs. 
It' e'er the gods, whom [ with vows adore, 
Conduct my steps to Tyber's happy shore — 
If ever I ascend the Latian throne, 
And build a city I may call my own — 
As both cf us our birth from Troy derive, 
So let our kindred lines in concord Five, 
And both in acts of equal friendship strive. 
Our fortunes, good or bad, shall be the same: 
The double Troy shall differ but in name: 
That what we now begin, may never end, 
But long to late posterity descend." 

Near the Ceraunian rocks our course we bcre — 
The shortest passage to th' Italian shore. 
Now had the sun withdrawn his radiant light, 
And hills were hid in dusky shades of night: 
We land, and, on the bosom of the ground, 
A safe retreat and a bare lodging found. 
Close by the shore we lay ; the sailors keep 
Their watches, and the rest securely sleep. 
The night, proceeding on with silent pace, 
Stood in her noon, and view'd with equal face 
Her steepy rise, and her declining race. 
Then wakeful Palinurus rose, to spy 
The face of heav'n, and the nocturnal sky; 
And listeu'd ev'ry breath of air to try ; 
Observes the stars, and notes their sliding course, 
The Pleiads, Hyads, and their wat'ry force ; 
And both the Bears is careful to behold, 
And bright Orion, arm'd with burnish'd gold. 
Then, when he saw no threat'ning tempest nigh, 
But a sure promise of a settled sky, 
He gave the sign to weigh, we break our sleep, 
Forsake the pleasing shore, and plough the deep. 
And now the rising morn with rosy light 
Adorns the skies, and puts the staA-s to flight i 



C-32 jENEis. 

When we from far, like bluish mist, descry 
The lulls, and then the plains, of Italy. 
Achates first pronounced the joyful sound; 
Then " Italy" the cheerful crew rebound ; 
My sire Anchises crown'd a cup with wine, 
And ofPring, thus implor'd the powers divine: 
" Ye gods, presiding Gvei lands and seas, 
And you who raging winds and waves appease, 
Breathe on our swelling sails a prosp'rous wind, 
And smooth our passage to the port assign'd." 
The gentle gales their flagging force renew ; 
And now the happy harbour is in view. 
Minerva's temple then salutes our sight, 
Plac'd, as a land-mark, on the mountain's height. 
We furl our sails, and turn the prows to shore ; 
The curling waters round the galleys roar. 
The land lies open tc the raging East. 
Then, bending like a bow, with rocks compress'd, 
Shuts out the storms ; the winds and waves complain, 
And vent their malice on the cliffs in vain. 
The port lies hid within ; on either side, 
Two tow'ring locks the narrow mouth divide. 
The temple, which aloft we view'd before, 
To distance flies, and seems to shun the shore. 
Scarce landed, the first omens I beheld 
Were four white steeds that cropp'd the flowery field. 
44 War, war, is threatened from this foreign ground, 
My father cried) where warlike steeds are found. 
Yet, since, reclaim'd, to chariots they submit, 
And bend to stubborn yokes, and champ the bit, 
Peace may succeed to war." — Our way we bend 
To Pallas, and the sacred hill ascend ; 
There prostrate to the fierce virago pray, 
Whose temple was the landmark of our way. 
Each with a Phrygian mantle veil'd his head, 
And all commands of Helenus pbey'd, 
And pious rites to Grecian Juno "aid. 



J3NEIS. 233 

These dues perform 'd, we stretch our sails and stand 

To sea, forsaking that suspected land. 

From hence Tarentum's bay appears in view, 

Fur Hercules renown' d, if lame be true. 

Just opposite, Licinian Juno stands ; 

Caulonian tow'rs and Scylacaean strands 

For shipwrecks fear'd. Mount iEtna thence we spy, 

Known by the smoky flames which cloud the sky. 

Far off we hear the waves with surly sound 

Invade the rocks, the rojks their groans rebound. 

The billows break upon the sounding strand, 

And roll the rising tide, impure with sand. 

Then thus Anchises in experience old : 

"*Tis that Charybdis which the seer foretold, 

And those the promised rocks ! Bear off to sea !" 

With haste the frightened mariners obey. 

First Palinurus to the larboard veer'd ; 

Then all the fleet by his example steer'd. 

To heav'n aloft on ridgy waves we ride, 

Then down to hell descend, when they divide ; 

And thrice our galleys knocked the stony ground, 

And thrice the hollow rocks return'd the sound, 

And thrice we saw the stars that stood with dews 

around. 
The flagging winds forsook us with the sun ; 
And, wearied, on Cyclopian shores we run. 
The port, capacious and secure from wind, 
Fs to the foot of thund'ring JEtna join'd. 
By turns a pitchy cloud she rolls on high ; 
By turns hot embers from her entrails fly, 
And flaKes of mountain flames that lick the sky. 
Oft from her bowels massy rocks are thrown, 
And, shiver'd by the force come piecemeal dowa 
Oft liquid lakes of burning sulphur flow, 
Fed from the fiery springs that boil below. 
Enceladus, they say, transfix'd by Jove, 
With blastud limbs came tumbling from abov«. 



234 iENEIS. 

And, where he fell, th' avenging father drew 

This flaming hill, and on his body threw. 

As often as he turns his weary sides, 

He shakes the solid isle, and smoke the heavens hides. 

In shady woods we pass the tedious night, 

Where bellowing sounds and groans our souls affright, 

Of which no cause is offer' d to the sight. 

For not one star was kindled in the sky, 

Nor could the moon her borrow'd light supply : 

For misty clouds involv'd the firmament; 

The stars were muffled, and the moon was pent. 

Scarce had the rising sun the day reveal'd ; 

Scarce had his heat the pearly dews dispelled ; 

When from the woods, their bolts before our sight, 

Somewhat betwixt a mortal and a sprite, 

So thin, so ghastly meagre, and so wan, 

So bare of flesh, he scarce resembled man. 

This thing, all tatter'd, seem'd from far t 1 implore 

Our pious aid, and pointed to the shore. 

W r e look behind ; then view his shaggy beard : 

His clothes were tagg'd with thorns; and filth his limbs 

besmear'd. 
The rest, in mien, in habit, and in face, 
Appear'd a Greek ; and such indeed he was. 
He cast on us, from far, a frightful view, 
Whom soon for Trojans and for foes he knew — 
Stood still and paus'd ; then all at once began 
To stretch his limbs, and trembled as he ran. 
Soon as approached, upon his knees he falls, 
And thus with tears and sighs for pity calls: 
" Now, by the powers above, and what we share 
From nature's common gift, this vital air, 
O Trojans take me hence ! I beg no more, 
But bear me far from this unhappy shore. 
'Tis true, 1 am a Greek, and further own, 
Among your foes besieg'd the imperial town. 
For such demerits if my death be due, 
No more for this abandon' d life 1 sue: 



235 



This only favour let my tears obtain, 

To throw me headlong in the rapid main: 

Since nothing more than death my crime demands, 

X die content to die by human hands." 

He said, and on his knees my knees embrac'd: 

I bade him boldly tell his fortune, past, 

His present state, his lineage, and his name, 

Th' occasion of his fears, and whence he came. 

The good .Anchises rais'd him with his hand, 

Who, thus encourag'd, answer' d our demand: 

" From Ithaca, my native soil, I came 

To Troy ; and Achoemenides my name. 

Me my poor father with Ulysses sent ; 

(O ! had I staid with poverty content !) 

But fearful for themsehes, my countrymen 

Left me forsaken in the Cyclop's den. 

The cave, though large, was dark ; the dismal floor 

Was pav'd with mangled limbs and putrid gore. 

Our monstrous host, of more than human size. 

Erects his head, and stares within the skies. 

Bellowing his voice, and horrid is his hue. 

Ye gods, remove this plague from mortal view ! 

The joints of slaughter^ wretches are his food, 

And for his wine he quaffs the streaming blood. 

These eyes beheld, when with his spacious hand 

He seiz'd two captives of our Grecian band ; 

Stretch'd on his back, he dash'd against the stones 

Their broken bodies, and their crackling bones : 

With spouting blood the purple pavement swims, 

While the dire glutton grinds the trembling limbs. 

Not unreveng'd Ulysses bore their fate, 

Nor thoughtless of his own unhappy state ; 

For, gorg'd with flesh, and drunk with human wine, 

While fast asleep the giant lay supine, 

Snoring aloud, and belching from his maw 

His indigested foam, and morsels raw — 

We pray, we cast the lots, and then surround 

The monstrous body, stretch'd along the ground : 



%; } S jENEIS. 

Each, as he could approach him, lends a hand, 

To bore his eyeball with a flaming brand. 

Beneath his frowning forehead lay his eye ; 

For only one did the vast frame supply — 

But that, a globe so large, his front it nll'd, 

Like the sun's disk, or like a Grecian stveld. 

The stroke succeeds ; and down the pupil bends: 

This vengeance ibllow'd for our slaughter'd friends.- 

But haste, unhappy wretches ! h?ste to ily \ 

Your cables cut, and on your oars rely ! 

Such and so vast as Polypheme appears, 

A hundred mere this hated island bears: 

Like him, in caves, they shut their woolly sheep; 

Like him, their herds on tops of mountains keep ; 

Like him, with mighty strides, they stalk from steep| 

to steep. 
And now three moons their sharpen'd horns renew, 
Since thus in woods and wilds, obscure from view, 
I drag my loathsome days with mortal fright, 
And in deserted caverns lodge by night; 
Oft from the rocks a dreadful prospect see 
Of the huge Cyclops, like a walking tree: 
From far I hear his thund'ring voice resound, 
And trampling feet that shake the solid ground. 
Cornels, and savage berries of the wood, 
And roots and herbs have been my meagre food. 
While all around my longing eyes I cast, 
I saw your happy ships appear at Jast. 
On those I fix'd my hopes, to these 1 run : 
'Tis all I ask, this cruel race to shun . 
What other death you pJease, yourselves bestow." 
Scarce had he said, when on the mountain's brow 
We saw the giant shepherd stalk before 
His following flock, and leading to the shore— 
A monstrous bulk, deform'd, depriv'd of sight ; 
His staff a trunk of pine, to guide his steps aright. 
His ponderous whistle from his neck descends ; 
His woolly care their pensive lord attends: 
This only solace his hard fortune sends. 



iENEIS. 237 

Soon as be reach'd the shore, and touchVl the waves 

From his bor'd eye the gutt'ring blood he laves: 

He gnash'd his teeth, and groan'd : through seas he 

strides ; 
And scarce the topmost billows touclVd his sides. 

Seiz'd with a sudden fear, we run to sea, 
The cables cut and silent haste away ; 
The well-deserving stranger entertain ; 
Then, buckling to the work, our oars divide the main. 
The giant hearkenV) to the dashing sound : 
But, when our vessels out of reach he found, 
He strided onward, and in vain essayed 
Th' Ionian deep, and durst no farther wade. 
With that he roar'd aloud: the dreadful cry 
Shakes earth and air and seas; the billows fly, 
Before the bellowing noise, te distant Italy. 
The nejghb'ring .-Etna trembling all around, 
The winding caverns echo to the sound. 
His brother Cyclops hear the yelling roar, 
And rushing down the mountains, crowd the shore. 
We saw their stern distorted looks from far, 
And one-ey'd glance, that vainly threaten'*! war — 
A dreadful council ! with their heads on high 
(The misty clouds about their foreheads fly) 
Nut yielding to the tow'ring tree of Jove, 
Or tallest cypress of Diana's grove. 
New pangs of mortal fear our minds assail ; 
We tug at ev'ry oar, and hoist up ev'ry sail, 
And take th' advantage of the friendly gaie. 
Fo'-ewarn'd by Helenus, we strive to shun 
Charybdis' gulf, nor dare to Scylla run. 
An equal fate on either side appears: 
We, tacking to the left, are free from fears: 
For, from Pelorus' point, the North arose, 
And drove us back where swift Fantagias flows. 
His rocky mouth we pass; and make our way 
By Thapsus, and Megara's winding Dav. 



238 iENEIS. 

This passage Achtemenides had shown, 
Tracing the course which he before had run. 
Right o'er against PHmmyrium s wat'ry strand. 
There lies an isle, once call'd th 1 Ortygian land. 
Alpheiis, as old fame reports, has found 
From Greece, a secret passage underground, 
By love to beauteous Arethusa led ; 
And, mingling here, they roll in the same sacred bed. 
As Helenus enjoin'd, we next adore 
Diana's name, protectress of the shore. 
With prosp'rous gales we pass the quiet sounds 
Of still Helorus, and his fruitful bounds. 
Then, doubling cape Pachynus, we survey 
The rocky shore extended to the sea. 
The town of Camarine from far we see, 
And fenny lake, undrain'd by Fate's decree. 
In sight of the Geloan fields we pass, 
And the large walls, where mighty Gela was ; 
Then Agragas, with lofty summits crown'd, 
Long for the race of warlike steeds renown'd. 
We pass'd Selinus, and the palmy land, 
And widely shun the Lilybeean strand, 
Unsafe for secret rocks and moving sand. 
At length on shore the weary fleet arriv'd, 
Which Drepanum's unhappy port receiv'd. 
Here, after endless labours, often toss'd 
By raging storms, and driv'n on ev'ry coast. 
My dear, dear father spent with age, I lost — 
Ease of my cares, and solace of my pain, 
Sav'd through a thousand toils, but sav'd in vain. 
The prophet, who my future woes, reveal'd, 
Yet this, the greatest and the worst, concealed: 
And diie Celseno, whose forboding skill 
Denounc'd all else, was silent of this ill. 
This my last labour was. Some friendly god 
From thence convey'd us to your blest abode." 
Thus, to the listening queen,the royal guest 
His wandYmg course and al' his toils expressed t 
And here concluding, he retir a to rest. 



JS N £ I S. 



BOOK IV. 



ARGUMENT. 

Dido discovers to her sister her passion for tineas, and her 
thoughts of marrying him. She prepares a hunting match tor 
his entertainment. June, by Venus' consent, raises a storm, 
which separates the hunters, and drives Jblneas and Dido in- 
to the same cave, where their marriage is supposed to be com- 
pleted. Jupiter despatches Mercury to ifcneas, to warn him 
from Carthage. ^Rneas secretly prepares for his voyage. Di- 
do finds out his design, and, to put a stop to it, makes use of 
her own and her sister's entreaties, and discovers all the va 
riety of passions that are incident to a neglected lover. 
When nothing could prevail upon him, she contrives her own 
death, with which this bock concludes. 



OUT anxious cares already &eiz'd the queen: 
Site fed within her veins a flame unseen ; 
The hero's valour, acts, and birth, inspire 
Her soul with love, and fan the secret tire. 
His words, his xooks, imprinted in her heart, 
Improve the passion, and increase the smart. 
Now, when the purple morn had chas'd away 
The dewy shadows, and restor'd the day, 
Her sister first with early care she sought, 
And thus in mournful accents eas'd her thought. 
" My dearest Anna! what new dreams affright 
My lab' ring soul ! what visions of the night 



240 JENEIS. 

Disturb my quiet, and distract my breast 
With strange ideas of our Trojan guest • 
His worth, his actions, and majestic air, 
A man descended from the gods declare. 
Fear ever argues a degen'rate kind: 
His birth is well asserted by his mind. 
Then, what he suft'er'd when by Fate betray'd 
What brave attempts for falling Trov he made ! 
Such were his looks, so gracefully he spoke, 
That, were I not resolv'd against the yoke 
Of hapless marriage— never to be curs'd 
With second love, so fatal was my first — 
To this one error I might yield again : 
For K smce Sichieus was untimely slain, 
This only man is able to subvert 
The fixM foundations of my stubborn heart. 
And, ■> confess my frailty to my shame, 
Somewhat I find within, if not the same, 
Too like the sparkles of my former flame. 
Kut first let yawning earth a passage rend, 
And let me through the dark abyss descend — 
First let avenging Jove, with flames from high, 
Drive down this body to the nether sky, 
Condemned with ghosts in endless night to lie- 
Before I break the plighted faith I gave ! 
No ! he who had my vows, shall ever have: 
For, whom 1 lov'd on earth, I worship in the grave." 

She said : the tears ran gushing from her eyes, 
And stopp'd her speech. Her sister thus replies: 
44 O, dearer than the vital air I breathe ! 
Will you to grief your blooming years bequeath, 
Condemned to waste in woes your lonely life, 
Without the joys of mother, or of wife ! 
Think you these tears, this pompous train of wo, 
Are known or valu'd by the ghosts below ? 
T grant th'it while your sorrows yet were green, 
Jt well became a woman, and a [ucen, 



341 



The vows of Tynan princes to neglect, 

To scorn larbas, and his love reject. 

With all the Libyan lords of mighty name: 

But Will you fight against a pleasing flame ? 

This little spot of land which heav'n bestows, 

On ev'ry side is hemm'd with warlike foes: 

Gfetulian cities here aie spread around, 

And fierce Numidians their your frontiers bound: 

Mere lies a barren waste of thirsty land, 

And there the Syrtes raise the moving sand : 

Barcasan troops besiege the narrow shore, 

And from *.he sea Pygmalion threatens more. 

Propitious heav'n, and gracious Juno, lead 

This wand'ring navy to your needful aid : 

How will your empire spread, your city rise, 

From such a union, and with such allies ! 

Implore the favour of the pow'rs above ; 

And leave the conduct of the rest to love. 

Continue still your hospitable way, 

And still invent occasions of their stay, 

Till storms and winter winds shall cease to threat, 

And planks and oars repair their shatter d fleet.'' 

These words, which from a friend and sister came, 
With ease resolv'd the scruples of her fame, 
And added fury to the kindled flame. 
Inspir'd with hope, the project they pursue ; ) 

On ev'ry altar sacrifice renew ; 
A chosen ewe of two years old they pay 
To Ceres. Bacchus, and the god of day. 
Preferring Juno's pow'r (for Juno ties 
The nuptial knot, and makes the marriage joys,) 
The beauteous queen before her altar stands, 
And holds the golden goblet in her hands, 
A milk-white heifer she with flow'rs adorns, 
And pours the ruddy wine betwixt her horns: 
And, while the priests with pray'r the gods invoke, 
She feeds their altars with Sabaean smoke, 

vol. l. 16 



242 JENEIS. 

With hourly care the sacrifice renews, 
And anxiously the panting entrails views. 
What priestly rites, alas ! what pious art, 
What vows avail to cure a bleeding heart? 
A gentle fire she feeds within her veins, 
Where the soft god secure in silence reigns. 

Sick with desire, and seeking him she loves, 
From street to street the raving Dido roves. 
So, when the watchful shepherd, from the blind, 
Wounds with a random shaft the careless hind, 
Distracted with her pain she flies the woods, 
Bounds o'er the lawn, and seeks the silent floods — - 
With fruitless care ; for still the fatal dart 
Sticks in her side, and rankles in her heart. 
And now she leads the Trojan chief along 
The lofty walls, amidst the busy throng; 
Displays her Tyrian wealth, and rising town, 
Which love, without his labour, makes his own. 
This pomp she shows, to tempt her wand'ring guest 
Her fault 1 ring tongue forbids to speak the rest. 
When day declines, and feasts renew the night, 
Still on his face she feeds her famish'd sight ; 
She longs again to hear the prince relate 
His own adventures, and the Trojan fate. 
He tells it o'er and o'er ; but still in vain, 
For still she begs to hear it once again. 
The hearer on the speaker's mouth depends; 
And thus the tragic story never ends. 

Then, when they part, when Phoebe's paler light 
Withdraws, and falling stars to sleep invite, 
She last remains, when ey'ry guest is gone, 
Sits on the bed he press'd, and sighs alone ; 
Absent, her absent hero sees and hears ; 
Or in her bosom young Ascanius bears, 
And seeks the fathers image in the child, 
If love by likeness might be so beguil'd. 

Meantime the rising tow'rs are at a stand • 
No labours exercise the youthful band, 



£NEIS. 243 

Nor use of arts, nor toils of arms they know : 
The mole is left unfmish'd to the foe ; 
The mounds, the works, the walls, neglected lie, 
Short of their promised height, that seem'd to threat the 
sky. 
But when imperial Juno, from above, 
•Saw Dido fetter'd in the chains of love, 
Hot with the venom which her veins inflam'd, 
And by no sense of shame to be reclanxTd, 
With soothing words to Venus she begun : 
" High praises, endless honours, you have won, 
And mighty trophies, with your worthy son ! 
Two gods a silly woman have undone ! 
Nor am .1 ignorant, you both suspect 
This rising city, which my hands erect: 
But shall celestial discord never cease ? 
'Tis better ended in a lasting peace. 
You stand possess'd of all your soul desir'd ; 
Poor Dido with consuming love is fir'd. 
Your Trojan with my Tyrian let us join ; 
So Dido shall be yours, iEneas mine — 
One common kingdom one united line. 
Lhza shall a Dardan lord obey. 
And lofty Carthage for a dow'r convey." 
Then Venus (who her hidden fraud descried 
Which would the sceptre of the world misguide 
To Libyan shores) thus artfully replied : 
" W 7 ho, but a fool, would wars with Juno choose, 
And such alliance and such gifts refuse, 
If fortune with our joint desires comply? 
The doubt is all from Jove, and destiny ; 
Lest he forbid with absolute command, 
To mix the people in one common land — 
Or will the Trojan and the Tyrian line, 
In lasting leagues and sure succession, join. 
But you, the partner of his bed and throne, 
May move his mind : my wishes are your own.** 



244 



£KEIS. 



" Mine,' 1 said imperal Juno, " be the care : — 

Time urges now : — to perfect this affair. 

Attend my counsel, ana the secret share. 

When next the Sun his rising light displays, 

And gilds the world below with purple rays, 

The queen, JEneas, and the Tyrian court, 

Shall to the shady woods, for sylvan game, resort ; 

There, while the huntsmen pitch their toils around, 

And cheerful horns, from side to side, resound, 

A pitchy cloud shall cover all the plain 

With hail, and thunder, and tempestuous rain: 

The fearful train shall take their speedy flight, 

Dispersed and all involv'd in gloomy night: 

One cave a grateful shelter shall afford 

To the fair princess and the Tiujan lcrd. 

I will myself the bridal bed prepare, 

If you, to bless the nuptials, will be there: 

So shall their loves be crown'd with due delights, 

And Hymen shall be present at the rites." 

The queen of love consents, and closely smiles 

At her vain project, and discover'd wiles. 

The rosy morn was risen from the main, 
And horns and hounds awake the princely train: 
They issue early through the city gate, 
Where the more wakeful huntsmen ready wait, 
With nets, and toils, and darts, beside the force 
Of Spartan dogs, and swift Massylian horse. 
The Tyrian peers and officers of state, 
For the slow queen, in anti-chambers wait: 
Her lofty courser, in the court below, 
(Who his majestic rider seems to know) 
Proud of his purple trappings, paws the ground, 
And champs the golden bit, and spreads the foam 

around. 
The queen at length appears: on either hand, 
The brawny guards in martial order stand. 
A flow'red cymar with golden fringe she wore, 
And at her back a golden quiver bore. 



jsnris. 245 

Her flowing hair a golden caul restrains, 

A golden clasp the Tyrian robe sustains. 

Then young Aseanius, with a sprightly grace, 

Leads on the Trojan youth to view the chase, 

But far above the rest in beauty shines 

The great JEneas, when the troop he joins: 

Like fair Apollo, when he leaves the lrost 

Oi wintry Xanthus, and the Lycian coast, 

When to his native Deles he resorts, 

Ordains the dances, and renews the sports; 

Where painted Scythians, ruix'd with Cretan bands, 

Before the joyful altars join their hands : 

Himself, od Cynthus walking, sees below 

The merry madness of the sacred show. 

Green wreaths of bays his length of hair enclose: 

A golden fillet binds his awful brows : 

His quiver sounds. — Not less the prince is seen 

In manly presence, or in lofty mien. [seat 

Now had they reach' d the hills, and storm'cl the 
Of savage beasts, in dens, their last retreat. 
The cry pursues the moantain-goats : they bound 
From rock to rock, and keep the craggy ground; 
Quile otherwise the stags, a trembling train, 
In herds unsingled, scour the dusty plain, 
And a long chase, in open view maintain. 
The glad Ascanius, as his courser guides, 
Spurs through the vale, and these and those outrides. 
His horse's flanks and tides are forced to feel 
The clanking lash, and goring of the steel. 
Impatiently he views the feeble prey, 
Wishing some nobler beast to cross his way; 
And rather would the tusky boar attend, 
Or see the tawny lion downward bend. 

Meantime, the gath'ring clouds obscure the skies; 
From pole to pole the forky lightning files, 
The rattling thunders roll ; and Juno pours 
A wintry deluge down, and sounding show-rs. 



246 MNFAS. 

The company dispersed, to coverts ride, 

And seek the homely cots, or mountain's hollow side. 

The rapid rains, descending from the hills, 

To rolling torrents raise the creeping rills. 

The queen and prince, as Love or Fortune guides, 

One common cavern in her bosom hides. 

Then first the trembling earth the signal gave ; 

And Hashing fires enlighten all the cave: 

Hell from below, and Juno from above, 

And howling nymphs, were conscious to their lo\ 

From this ill-omen'd hour, in time arose 

Debate and death, and all succeeding woes. 

The queen, whom sense of honour could not move* 
No longer made a secret ol her love, 
But call'd it marriage, by that specious name 
To veil the crime, and sanctify the shame. 

The loud report through Libyan cities goes. 
Fame, the great ill, from small beginnings grows — 
Swift from the first ; and ev'ry moment brings 
New vigour to her flights, new pinion? to her wings. 
Soon grows the pigmy to gigantic size ; 
Her feet on earth, her forehead in the skies. 
Eurag'd against the gods, revengeful Earth 
Produc'd her, last of the Titan ian birth — 
Swift is her walk, more swift her winged haste — 
A monstrous phantom, horrible and vast. 
As many plumes as raise her lofty flight, 
So many piercing eyes enlarge her sight : 
Millions of op'ning mouths to Fame belong; 
And ev'ry mouth is furnish'd with a tongue; 
And round with listening ears the flying plague is 

hung. 
She fills the peaceful universe with cries : 
No slumbers ever close her wakeful eyes: 
By day, from lofty tow'rs her head she shews, 
And spreads thro' trembling crowds disas'trous news, 
With court informers haunts, and royal spies; 
Things done relates ; not done she feigns ; and mingles 
truth with lies. 



JENEIS. 247 

Talk is her business ; anci her chief delight 
To tell of prodigies, and cause affright. 
She nils the people's ears with Dido's name, 
Who, " lost to honour and the sense of shame, 
Admits into her throne and nuptial bed 
A wand'ring guest, who from his country fled: 
Whole days with him she passes in delights, 
And wastes in luxury long winter nights, 
Forgetful of her fame and royal trust, 
Dissolv'd in ease, abandoned to her lust." 

The goddess widely spreads the loud report, 
And flies at length to king larbas' court. 
When first possess'd with this unwelcome news, 
Whom did he not of men and god's accuse? 
This prince, from ravish'd Garmantis bom, 
A hundred temples did with spoils adorn, 
In Amnion's honour, his celestial sire; 
A hundred altars fed with wakeful fire ; 
And, through his vast dominions, priests ordain'd, 
Whose watchful care these holy rites maintain'd. 
The gates and columns were with garlands crown'd. 
And blood of victim beasts enrich'd the ground. 

He, when he heard a fugitive could move 
The Tyrian princes, who disdain'd his love, 
His breast with fury burn'd, his eyes with fire — 
Mad with despair, impatient with desire — 
Then on the sacred altars pouring wine, 
He thus with pray'rs implor'd his sire divine: 
" Great Jove, propitious to the Moorish race, 
Who feast on painted beds, with off 'rings grace 
Thy temples, and adore thy pow'r divine 
With blood of victims, and with sparkling wine ; 
Seest thou not this ? or do we fear in vain 
Thy boasted thunder, and thy thoughtless reign ? 
Do thy broad hands the forky lightnings lance ? 
Thine are the bolts, or the blind work of chance? 
A wand'ring woman builds, within our state, 
A little town, bought at an easy rate ; 



248 JENEIS. 

She pays me homage, (and my giants allow 
A narrow space of Libyan lands to plough) 
Yet, scorning me, by passion blindly led, 
Admits a banish'd Trojan to her bed ! 
And now, this other Paris, with his train 
Of conquer'd cowards, must in Afric reign ! 
(Whom, what they are, their looks and garb confess, 
Their iocks with oil pe'rfum'd, their Lydian dress.) 
He takes the spoil, enjoys the princely dame; 
And I, rejected I, adore an empty name ! 

His vows, in haughty terms, he thus preferr'd, 
And held his altar's horns: the mighty Tnund'rer heard, 
Then cast his eyes on Carthage, where he found 
The lustful pair in lawless pleasure cirown'd, 
Lost in their loves, insensible of shame, 
And both forgetful of their better fame. 
He calls Cyllenius; and the god attends ; 
By whom this menacing command he sends: 
" Go, mount the western winds, and cleave the sky; 
Then, with a swift descent, to Carthage fly: 
There find the Trojan chief, who wastes his days 
In slothful riot and inglorious ease, 
Nor minds the future city, given by Fate. 
To him this message from my mouth relate : 
Not so fair Venus hop'd, when twice she won 
Thy life with pray'rs ; nor promised such a son. 
Hers was a hero, destin'd to command 
A martial race, and rule the Latian land ; 
Who should his ancient line from Teucer draw ; 
And on the conquer'd world impose the law. 
[f glory cannot move a mind so mean, 
No" future praise from fading pleasure wean, 
Yet why should he defraud his son of fame 
And grudge the Romans their immortal name ? 
What are his vain designs? what hopes he more 
From his long ling'ring on a hostile shore, 
Regardless to redeem his honour lost, 
And lor his race to gain r he ^usonian coast? 



jENEIS. 249 

Bid him with speed the Tyrian court forsake: 
With this command the slumb'ring warrior wake." 

Hermes obeys: with golden pinions binds 
Bis flying feet, and mounts the western winds: 
And, whether o'er the seas or earth he flies. 
With rapid force they bear him down the slues. 
But first he grasps within his awful hand 
The mark of sov'reign pow'r, his magic wand : 
With this he draws the ghosts from hollow graves ; 
With this he drives them down the Stygian waves; 
With this he seals in sleep the wakeful sight, 
And eyes, though clos'd in death, restores to light. 
Thus arm'd, the god begins his airy race, 
And drives the racking clouds along the liquid space : 
Now sees the top of Atlas, as he rlies, 
Whose brawny back supports the starry skies — 
Atlas, whose head, with piny forests crown'd, 
Is beaten by the winds — with foggy vapours bound. 
Snows hide his shoulders: from beneath his chin 
The founts of rolling streams their race begin; 
A beard of ice on his large breast depends — 
Here, pois'd upon his wings, the god descends : 
Then, resting thus, he from the tow'ring height 
Plung'd downward with precipitated flight, 
Lights on the seas, and skims along the flood ; 
As water fowls, who seek their fishy food, 
Less, and yet less, to distant prospect show ; 
By turns they dance aloft, and dive below ; 
Like these, the steerage of his wings he plies. 
And near the surface of the water flies. 
Till, having pass'd the seas, and cross'd the sands, 
He clos'd his wings, and stoop'd on Libyan lands, 
Where shepherds once were hous'd in homely sheds, 
Now tovv'rs within the clouds advance their heads. 
Arriving there, he found the Trojan prince 
New ramparts raising for the town's defence, 
A purple scarf, with gold embroider'd o'er, 
(Queen Dido's gift) about his waist he wore ; 



260 2ENEIS. 

A sword, with glitt'ring gems diversified, 
For ornament, not use, hung idly by his side. 
Then thus, with winged words, the god began, 
Resuming his own shape — *.« Degenerate man ! 
Thou woman's property ! what mak'st thou here, 
These foreign walls and Tyrian tow'rs to rear, 
Forgetful of thy own ? All-powerful Jove, 
Who sways the world below and heav'n above, 
Has sent me down with this severe command : 
What means thy ling'ring in the Libyan land ? 
If glory cannot move a mind so mean, 
Nor future praise from flitting pleasure wean, 
Regard the fortunes of thy rising heir: 
The promised crown let young Ascanius wear, 
To whom th* Ausonian sceptre, and the state 
Of Rome's imperial name, is ow'd by Fate." 
So spoke the god ; and, speaking, took his flight, 
Involv'd in clouds: and vanished out of sight. 

The pious prince was seiz'd with sudden fear: 
Mute was his tongue, and upright stood his hair. 
Revolving in his mind the stern command, 
He longs to fly, and loaths the charming land. 
What Should he say? or how should he begin ? 
What course, alas ! remains, to steer between 
Th 1 offended lover and the powerful queen ? 
This way, and that, he turns his anxious mind, 
And all expedients tries, and none can find. 
Fix'd on the deed, but doubtful of the means — 
A fter long thcught, to this advice he leans: 
Tnree chiefs he calls, commands them to repair 
The fleet, and ship their men, with silent care : 
Some plausible pretence he bids them find, 
To colour what in secret he design'd. 
Himself, meantime, the softest hours would choose, 
Before the love-sick lady heard the news; 
And move her tender mind by slow degrees, 
To suffer what the sov'reign pow'r decrees ; 



jENEIS. 251 

Jove will inspire him, when, and what to say.— 
They hear with pleasure, and with haste ohey. 

But soon the queen percieves the thin disguise; 
(What arts can blind a jealous woman's eyes?) 
She was the first to find the secret fraud, 
Before the fatal news was blaz'd abroad. 
Love the first motions of the lover hears, 
Quick to presage, and e'en in safety fears. 
Nor impious Fame was wanting to report 
The ships repair'd, the Trojans quick resort, 
And purpose to forsake the Tyrian court. 
Frantic with fear, impatient of the wound, 
And impotent of mind, she roves the city round. 
Less wild the Bacchanalian dames appear, 
When, from afar, their nightly god they hear, 
And howl about the hills and shake the wreathy spear. 
At length she finds the dear perfidious man ; 
Prevents his form'd excuse, and thus began: 
" Base and ungrateful ! could you hope to fly, 
And undiscover'd, 'scape a lover's eye ? 
Nor could my kindness your compassion move, 
Nor plighted vows, nor dearer bands of love ? 
Or is the death of a despairing queen 
Not worth preventing, though, too well foreseen ? 
E'en when the wintry winds command your stay, 
You dare the tempests, and defy the sea. 
False as you are, suppose you were not bound 
To lands unknown, and foreign coasts to sound ; 
Were Troy restor'd, and Priam's happy reign, 
Now durst you tempt, for Troy, the raging main ? 
See, whom you fly ! am I the foe you shun ? 
Now, by those holy vows, so late begun, 
By this right hand (since I have nothing more 
To challenge, but the faith you gave before) 
I beg you by these tears too truly shed, 
By the new pleasures of our nuptial bed ; 
If ever Dido, when you most were kind, 
Were pleasing in your eyes, or touch'd your mind : 



252 JENEIS. 

By these my pray'rs, if pray'rs may yet have place, 

Pity the fortune of a falling race ! 

For you i have provok'd a tyrant's hate, 

incens'd the Libyan and the Tyrian state ; 

For you alone, 1 suffer in my fame, 

Bereft of honour, nnd exposed to shame ! 

Whom have I now to trust, ungrateful guest ? 

(That only name remains of ail the rest I) 

What have I left? or whither can I Ayr 

Must I attend Pygmalion's cruelty, 

Or till larbas shall in triumph lead 

A queen, that proudly scorn'd his proffer'd bed ! 

had you deferr'd, at least, your hasty flight, 

And left behind some pledge of our (Might, 

.Some babe to bless the mother's mournful sight, 

Some young iEneas to supply your place, 

Whose features might express his father's face; 

I should not then complain to live bereft 

Of all my husband, or be wholly left."' 

Here paus'd the queen. Unmov'd he holds his eyed, 
By Jove's command ; norsuffer'd love to rise, 
Tho' heaving in his heart ; and thus at length lephes 
" Fair queen, you never can enough repeat 
Your boundles favours, or 1 own my debt ; 
Nor can my mind forget Eliza's name, 
While vital breath inspires this mortal frame 
This only let me speak in my defence — 
1 never hop'd a secret flight from hence, 
Much less pretended to the lawful claim 
Of sacred nuptials, or a husband's name. 
For, if indulgent heav'n would leave me free, 
And not submit my life to Fate's decree, 
My choice would lead me to the Trojan shore, 
Those relics to review, their dust adore, 
kw.cl Priam's ruinVl palace to restore. 
And now the Delphian oracle commands, 
And Fate invites me to the Laiian lands 



253 



That is the promisV? place to which I steer ; 
And all my vows are terminated there. 
if you, a Tynan and stranger born, 
With walls and tow'rs, a Libyan town adorn, 
Why may not we — like you, a foreign race- 
Like you, seek shelter in a foreign place ? 
As often as the night obscures the skies 
Wilh humid shades, or twinkling stars arise, 
A lionises' angry ghost in dreams appears, 
Chides, my delay, and fills my soul with fears: 
And young Ascanius justly may complain, 
Defrauded of his fate, and destin'd reign. 
E'en now the herald of the gods appear'd — 
Waking I saw him, and his message heard. 
From Jove became commission'd, heavenly bright 
With radiant beams, and manifest to sight: 
(The sender and the sent I both attest) 
These walls he enter'd, and these words express'd 
fair queen, oppose not what the gods command : 
Forc'd by my fate, I leave your happy land." 

Thus while he spoke, already she began 
With sparkling eyes to view the guilty man, 
From head to foot, survey' d his person o 1 er, 
Nor longer these outrageous threats forbore : 
" False as thou, and more than false, forsworn : 
Not sprung from noble blood, nor goddess-born, 
But hewn from hardened entrails of a rock ! 
And rough Hyrcanian tigers gave thee suck ! 
Why should I fawn ? what have I worse to fear? 
Did he once look, or lent a listening ear, 
Sigh'd when I sobb'd, or shed one kindly tear ? 
All symptoms of a base ungrateful mind, 
So foul, that, which is worse, 'tis hard to find. 
Of man's injustice why should T complain ? 
The gods, and Jove himself, behold in vain 
Triumphant treason; yet no thunder rlies: 
Nor Juno views my wrongs, with equal eyes: 
Faithless is earth, and faithless are the skies ! 



254 JENEIS. 

Justice is fled, and truth is now no more ! 
] sav'd the shipwreck'd exile on my shore ; 
With needful food his hungry Trojans fed ; 
I took the traitor to my throne and bed : 
Fool that I was — 'tis little to repeat 
The rest — I stor'd and rigg'd his ruin'd fleet. 
1 rave, 1 rave ! a god's command he pleads, 
And makes heav'n accessory to his deeds. 
Now Lycian lots, and now the Delian god, 
Now Hermes is employ'd from Jove's abode, 
To warn him hence ; as if the peaceful state 
Of heav'nly pow'rs were touch'd with human late. 
But go! thy flight no longer I detain — 
Go ! seek thy promis'd kingdom through the main ! 
Yet, if the heav'ns will hear my pious vow, 
The faithless waves, not half so false as thou, 
Or secret sands, shall sepulchres afford 
To the proud vessels, and their perjur'd lord. 
Then shalt thou call on injur'd Dido's name : 
Dido shall come in a black sulph'ry flame: 
When death has once dissolv'd her mortal frame- 
Shall smile to see the traitor vainly weep: 
Her angry ghost arising from the deep, 
Shall haunt thee waking, and disturb thy sleep. 
At least my shade thy punishment shall know; 
And Fame shall spread the pleasing news below." 

Abruptly here she stops — then turns away 
Her loathing eyes, and shuns the sight of day. 
Amaz'd he stood, revolving in his mind 
What speech to frame, and what excuse to find. 
Her fearful maids their fearful mistress led, 
And softly laid her on her iv'ry bed. 

But good iEneas, though he much desir'd 
To give that pity which her grief requir'd — 
Though much he mourn'd and labour' d with his lov«*- 
Resolv'd at length, obeys the will of Jove ; 
Reviews his forces : they with early care 
Unmoor their vessels, and for sea prepare. 



.ENEJS. 255 

The fleet is soon afloat, in all its pride ; 
And well caulk'd galleys in the harbour ride. 
Then oaks for oars they fell'd ; or as they stood, 
Of its green arms despoil'd the growing wood, 
Studious of flight. The beach is cover'd o'er 
With Trojan bands that blacken all the shove: 
On ev'ry side are seen descending down, 
Thick swarms of soldiers, loaden from the town. 
Thus, in battalia, march embodied ants, 
Fearful of winter, and of future wants, 
T' invade the corn, and to their cells convey 
The plunder'd forage of their yellow prey. 
The sable troops, along the narrow tracks, 
Scarce bear the weighty burden on their backs: 
Some set their shoulders to the pond'rous grain ; 
Some guard the spoil, some lash the lagging train ; 
All ply their several tasks, and equal toil sustain. 
What pangs the tender breast of Dido tore, 
When from the tow'r, she saw the cover'd shore, 
And heard the shouts of sailors, from afar, 
Mix'd with the murmurs of the wat'ry war! 
All-powerful Love ! what changes canst thou cause 
In human hearts, subjected to thy laws ! 
Once more her haughty soul the tyrant bends: 
Topray'rs and mean submissions she descends. 
No female arts or aids she left untried, 
NorcDunsels unexplor'd, before she died. 
" Look, Anna ! look ! the Trojans crowd to sea ; 
They spread their canvas, and their anchors weigh. 
The shouting crew their ships with garlands bind, 
Invoke the sea-gods, and invite the wind. 
Could I have thought his threat'ning blow so neai, 
My tender soul had been forewarned to bear 
But do not you my last request deny : 
With yon perfidious man your int'rest try, 
And bring me news, if I must live or die. 
You are his fav'rite ; }*ou alone can find 
The dark recesses of his inmost miad : 



256 iENEIS. 

In all his trusted secrets you have part, 

And know the soft approaches of his heart. 

Haste then, and humbly seek my haughty foe-, 

Tell him, I did not with the Grecians go, 

Nor did my fleet against his friends employ, 

Nor swore the ruin of unhappy Troy, 

Nor mov'd with hands profane his lather's dust: 

Why should he then reject a suit so just ? 

Whom does he shun ? and whither would he fly? 

Can he this last, this only prav'r deny ? 

Let him at least his dangerous flight delay, 

Wait better winds, and hope a calmer sea. 

The nuptials he disclaims, 1 urge, no more : 

Let him pursue the promis'd Latin shore. 

A short delay is all 1 ask him now — 

A pause of grief, an interval from wo, 

Till my soft soul be temper'd to sustain 

Accustom'd sorrows, and inur'd to pain. 

If you in pity grant this one request, 

My death shall glut the hatred of his breast." 

This mournful message pious Anna bears, 

And seconds, with her own, her sister's tears: 

But all her arts are still employ'd in vain : 

Again she comes, and is refus'd again. 

His harden'd heart nor pray'rs nor threat'nings move , 

Fate, and the god, had stopp'd his ears to love. 

As when the winds their airy quarrel try, 
Justling from ev'ry quarter of the sky, 
This way and that the mountain oak they bend; 
His boughs they shatter, and his branches rend ; 
W ith leaves and falling mast they spread the ground ; 
The hollow valleys echo to the sound : 
Unmov'd, the roval plant their fury mocks, 
Or, shaken, clings more closely to the rocks: 
Far as he shoots his tow'ring head on high, 
So deep in earth his fix'd foundations lie. 
No iess a storm the Trojan hero bears ; 
Thick messages and loud complaints he hears, 
And bandied words, stil) heating, on his ears. 



257 



Sighs, groans, and tears, proclaim his inward pains \ 
But the firm purpose of his heart remains. 

The wretched queen, pursu'd by cruel Fate, 
Begins at length the light of heav'n to hate, 
And loaths to live. Then dire portents she sees, 
To hasten on the death ner soul decrees — 
Strange to relate ! for when before the shrine, 
She pours in sacrifice the purple wine, 
The purple wine is turn'd to putrid blood ; 
And the white offer' d milk converts to mud. 
This dire presage, to her alone reveal'd. 
From all, and e'en her sister, she conceal'd. 
A marble temple stood within the grove, 
Sacred to death, and to her murder' d love ; 
That honour'd chapel she had hung around 
With snowy fleeces, and with garlands crown'd : 
Oft, when she visited this lonely dome, 
Strange voices issued from her husband's tomb: 
She thought she heard him summon her away, 
Invite her to his grave, and chide her stay. 
Hourly 'tis heard, when with a boding note 
The solitary screech-owl strains her throat, 
And, on a chimney's top or turret's height, 
With songs obscene disturbs the silence of the night. 
Besides, old prophecies augment her fears ; 
And stern .Eneas in her dreams appears, 
Disdainful as by day: she seems, alone, 
To wander in her sleep, through ways unknown, 
Guideless and dark ; or, in a desert plain, 
To seek her subjects, and to seek in vain — 
Like Penlheus, when distracted with his fear, 
He saw two suns and double Thebes appear ; 
Or mad Orestus, when his mother's ghost 
Full in his face infernal torches toss'd, 
And shook her snaky locks : he shuns the sight, 
Flies o'er the stage, surprised with mortal fright ; 
The Furies guard the door, and inic,.\,ept his fbght. 
vol. i. *7 



258 .ENEIS 

Now, sinking underneath a load of grief, 
From death alone she seeks her last relief: 
The time and means resolv'd within her breast, 
She to her mournful sister thus addressed : 
(Dissembling hope, her cloudy fiont she clears. 
And a false vigour in her eyes appears.) 
"Rejoice!" she said, " Instructed from above, 
My lover I shall gain, or lose my love. 
Nigh rising Atlas, next the falling sun, 
Long tracts of ^Ethiopian climates run : 
There a Massylian priestess I have found, 
Honour'd for age, for magic arts renuwn'd : 
Th' Hesperian temple was her trusted care ; 
'Twas she supplied the wakeful dragon's fare. 
She, poppy-seeds in honey taught to steep. 
Reclaimed his rage, and sooth'd him into sleep: 
She watch'd the golden fruit. Her charms unbind 
The chains of love, or fix them on the mind : 
She stops the torrents, leaver the channel dry, 
Repels the stars, and backward bears the sky. 
The yawning earth rebellows to her oall ; 
Pale ghosts ascend; and mountain ashes fall. 
Witness, ye gods, and thou my better part, 
How loth 1 am to try this impious art ! 
Within the secret court, with silent care, 
Erect a lofty pile, expos'd in air : 
Hang, on the topmost part, the Trojan vest, 
Spoils, arms, and presents, of my faithless guest. 
Next, under these, the bridal bed be plac'd, 
Where I my ruin in his arms embrac'd. 
All relics of the wretch are doom'd to fire ; 
For so the priestess and her charms require. " 
Thus far she said, and further speech forbears. 
A mortal paleness in her face appears : 
Yet the mistrustless Anna could not find 
The secret fun'ra) in these rites designed ; 
Nor thought so dire a rage nossess'd her i£ir»d. 



&NF.IS. 259 

Unknowing of a train conceal'd so well, 

She fear'd no worse than when Sicbssus fell ; 

Therefore obeys. The fatal pile they rear, 

W ithin the secret court, expos 1 d in air. 

The cloven holms and pines are heap'd on high, 

And garlands on the hollow spaces lie. 

Sad cypress, vervain, yew, compose the wreath ; 

And ev'ry baleful green denoting death. 

The queen, determin'd to the fatal deed, 

The spoils and sword he left, in order spread 

And the man's image on the nuptial bed. 

And now (the sacred altars plac'd around) 

The priestess enters with her hair unbound, 

And thrice invokes the pow'rs below the ground. 

Night, Erebus, and Chaos, she proclaims, 

And threefold Hecat, with her hundred names, 

And three Dianas: next she sprinkles round, 

With feign'd Ave-nian drops, the hallow'd ground ; 

Culls hoary simples, found by Phoebe's light, 

With brazen sickles reap'd at noon of night; 

Then mixes baleful juices in the bowl, 

And cuts the forehead cf a newborn foal, 

Robbing the mother's love. The destin'd queen 

Observes, assisting at the rites obscene : 

A leaven'd cake in her devoted hands 

She holds; and next the highest altar stands: 

One tender foot was shod, her other bare ; 

Girt was her gather'd gown, and loose her hair. 

Thus dress'd, she summon'd, with her dying breath, 

The heavens and planets conscious of her death, 

And ev'ry pow'r, if any rules above, 

Who minds or who revenges injur'd love. 

'Twas dead of night, when weary bodies close 
Their eyes in balmy sleep, and soft repose : 
The winds no longer whisper through the woods, 
Nor murm'ring ciu>.s disturb thegentls doods. 
The stars in silent o *der moved arour.d : [ground. 

And Peace, with di /wiry wings, was brooding on the 



C MQ iENEIS. 

'The flocks and herds, and particolour'd fowl 
Which haunt the woods or sw?m the weedy pool, 
Stretch'd on the quiet earth, securely lay, 
forgetting the past labours of the day. 
Ail else of nature's common gift partake ; 
Unhappy Dido was alone awake. 
Nor sleep nor ease the furious queen can find: 
Sleep fied her eyes, as quiet fled her mind. 
Despair, and rage, and love, divide her heart ; 
Dejpair and rage had some, but love the greater part 

Then thus she said within her secret mind : 
u What shall 1 do? what succour can I find ? 
Become a suppliant to Iarbas' pride, 
And take my turn to court and be denied? 
Shall I with this ungrateful Trojan go, 
Forsake an empire, and attend a foe ? 
Himself I refug'd, and his train reliev'd — 
*Tis true— but am I sure to be receiv'd ? 
Can gratitude in Trojan souls have place ? 
Laomedon still lives in all his race ! 
Then, shall I seek alone the churlish crew, 
Or with my fleet, their flying sails pursue ? 
What force have I but those, who scarce before 
I drew reluctant from their native shore? 
Will they again embark at my desire, 
Once more sustain the seas, and quit their second Tyre? 
Rather with steel thy guilty breast invade, 
And take the fortune thou thyself hast made. 
Your pity, sister, first sedue'd my mind, 
Or seconded too well what I designed. 
These dear-bought pleasures had 1 never known, 
Had 1 continued free, and still my own — 
Avoiding love, I had not found despair, 
But shar'd with savage beasts the common air. 
Like them, a lonely life I might have led, 
Not mourn'd the living, nor disturbed the dead." 
These thoughts she breaded in her anxious breast- 
On board, the Trbian found more easy rest. 



JLNEI3. 261 

Resolv'd to sail, in sleep he pass'd the night ; 

And ordered all things for his early flight. 

To whom once more the winged god appears. 

His former youthful mien and shape he wears, 

And with this new alarm invades his ears : 

44 Sleep'st thou O goddess-born ? and canst thou drewn 

Thy needful cares, so near a hostile town, 

Beset with foes; nor hear'st the western gales 

Invite thy passage, and inspire thy sails? 

She harbours in her heart a furious hate, 

(And thou shalt find the dire effects too late) 

Fix'd on revenge, and obstinate to die. 

Haste swiftly hence, while thou nast pow'r to fly. 

The sea with ships will soon be cover' d o'er, 

And blazing firebrands kindle all the shore. 

Prevent her rage, while night obscures the skies ; 

And sail before the purple morn arise. 

Who knows what hazards thy delay may bring ? 

Woman's a various and a changeful thing." 

Thus Hermes in the dream : then took his flight, 

Aloft in air unseen, and mix'd in night. 

Twice warn'd by the celestial messenger, 
The pious prince arose with hasty fear ; 
Then rous'd his drowsy train without delay: 
" Haste to your banks, ycur crooked anchors weigh, 
And spread your flying sails, and stand to sea ! 
A god commands: he stood before my sight, 
And urg'd us once again to speedy flight. 
O sacred pow'r ! what pow'r soe'er thou art, 
To thy blest orders I resign my heart. 
,ead thou the way ; protect thy Trojan bands ; 
And prosper the design thy will commands." 
He said ; and, drawing forth his flaming sword. 
His thund'ring arm divides the many-twisted cord. 
And emulating zeal inspires his train : 
They run ; they snatch ; they rush into the main. 
With headlong haste they leave the desert shores, 
And brush the liquid seas with laboring oars. 



262 JENEIS 

Aurora no\r had left her saffron bed, 
And beams of early light, the heav'ns o'erspread, 
When from a tow'r, the queen, with wakeful eyes, 
Saw day point upward from the rosy skies. 
She look'd to seaward : but the sea v/as void, 
And scarce in ken the sailing ships descried. 
Stung with despite, and furious with despair, 
She struck her trembling breast, and tore her hair. 
" And shall th ? ungrateful traitor go (she said,) 
My land forsaken, and my love betray' d ? 
Shall we not arm? not rush from ev'ry street? 
To follow, sink, and burn, his purjur'd fleet? 
Haste ! haul my galleys out ! pursue the foe ! 
Bring flaming brands ! set sail, and swiftly row ! 
What have I said ! where am I ? Fury turns 
My brain ; and my distemper'd bosom burns ; 
Then, when I gave my person and my throne, 
This hate, this rage, nao. oeet more timely shown. 
See now the promis'a faitn, tne vaunted name, 
The pious man, who, rushing through the flame, 
Preserv'd his gods, and to the Phrygian shore 
The burden of his feeble father bore ! 
I should have torn him piece-meal— strew'd in floods 
His scatter'd limbs, or left expos'd in woods — 
Destroy'd his friends and son — and from the fire 
Have set the reeking boy before the sire. 
Events are doubtful, which on battle wait ! 
Yet whe.e's the doubt, to souls secure of fate ? 
My Tyrians, at their injur'd queen's command, 
Had toss'd the«r fires amid the Trojan band ; 
At once extinguished all the faithless name ; 
And 1 myself, in vengeance of my shame, 
Had falTn upon the pile, to mend the fun'ral flame. 
Thou sun, who view'st at once the world below ! 
Thou Juno, guardian of the nuptial vow ! 
Thou Hecat, hearken from thy dark abodes ! 
Ye Furies, fiends, and violated gods ! 



&NEIS. 263 

All powers invok'd with Dido's dying breath, 

Attend her curses and avenge her death ! 

If s") the Fates ordain, and Jove commands, 

Th' ungrateful wretch should find the Latiar. lands. 

Yet let a race untam'd, and haughty foes, 

His peaceful entrance with dire arms oppose: 

Oppress'd with numbers in th' unequal field, 

His men discouidg'd, and himself expell'd, 

Let him for succour sue from place to place, 

Torn from his subjects, and his son's embrace. 

First let him see his friends in battle slain, 

And their untimely fate lament in vain : 

And when at length the cruel war shall cease, 

On hard conditions may he buy his peace : 

Nor let him then enjoy supreme command ; 

But fall, untimely, by some hostile hand, 

And lie unburied on the barren sand ! 

These are my pray'rs, and this my dying will: 

And you, my Tyrians, ev'ry curse fulfil. 

Perpetual hate and mortal wars proclaim 

Against the prince, the people, and the name. 

These grateful ofFrings on my grave bestow ; 

IN or league, nor love, the nostile nations know ! 

Now, and from hence, in ev'ry future age, 

When rage excites your arms, and strength supplies ».i3 

rage, 
Rise some avenger of our Libyan blood, 
With fire and sword pursue the perjur'd brood — 
Our arms, our seas, our shores, oppos'd to theirs — 
And the same hate descend on all our heirs !" 

This said, within her anxious mind she weighs 
The means of cutting short her odious days. 
Then to Sichaeus' nurse she briefly said, 
(For, when she left her country, hers was dead) 
" Go, Barce, call my sister. Let her care 
The solemn rites cf sacrifice prepare ; 
The sheep, and all th' atoning orT'rings, bring; 
Sprinkling her body from the crystal spring 



264 ^NEIS. 

With living drops ; then let her come ; and thou 
With sacred fillets bind thy hoary brow. 
Thus will 1 pay my vows 10 Stygian Jove. 
And end the cares of my disastrous love; 
Then cast the Trojan image on the fire ; 
And, as that burns, my passion shall expire." 

The nurse moves onward with officious care, 
And all the speed her aged limbs can Dear. 
But furious Dido, with dark thoughts involv'd, 
Shook at the mighty mischief she resolv'd. 
With livid spots distinguished was her face ; 
Red were her rolling eyes, and discompos'd her pace 
Ghastly she gaz'd ; with pain she drew her breath ; 
And nature shiver'd at approaching death. 

Then swiftly to the fatal place she pass'd, 
And mounts the fun'ral pile with furious haste; 
Unsheaths the sword the Trojan left behind, 
(Not for so dire an enterprzie design'd.) 
But when she view'd the garments loosely spread, 
Which once he wore, and saw the conscious bed, 
She paus'd, and with a sigh the robes embrac'd, 
Then on the couch her trembling body cast, 
Repress'd the ready tears, and spoke her last: 
" Dear pledges of my love, while heav'n so pleas'd, 
Receive a soul, of mortal anguish eas'd. 
My fatal course is finish'd : and 1 go, 
A glorious name, among the ghosts below. 
A lofty city by my hands is rais'd ; 
Pygmalion punish'd, and my lord appeas'd. 
What could my fortune have afforded more, 
Had the false Trojan never touch'd my shore ?" 
Then kiss'd the couch : and " Must I die," she said, 
" And unreveng'd? 'tis doubly to be dead ! 
Yet e'en this death with pleasure I receive: 
On any terms, 'tis better than to live. 
These flames from far, may the false Trojan view ; 
These boding omens his base flight pursue !" 



*;neis. 265 

She said, and struck : deep entered in her side 

The piercing steel, with reeking purple cy'd : 

Ulogg'd in the wound the cruel weapon stands ; 

The spouting blood came streaming on her hands 

Her sad attendants saw the deadly stroke, 

And with loud cries the sounding palace shook. 

Distracted from the fatal sight they fled, 

And through the town the dismal rumour spread. 

First from the frighted court the yell began; 

Redoubled, thence from house to house it ran : 

The groans of men, with shrieks, laments, and cries 

Of mixing women, mount the vaulted skies. 

Not less the clamour, than if ancient Tyre, 

Or the new Carthage, set by foes on fire — 

The rolling ruin, with their lov'd abodes, 

Involv'd the blazing temples of their gods. 

Her sister hears, and, furious with despair, 

brie beats her breast, and rends her yellow hair, 

And, calling on Eliza's name aloud, 

Runs breathless to the place, and breaks the crowd. 

" Was all that pomp of wo for this prepar'd, 

These fires, this fun'ral pile, these altars reard ? 

Was all this train of plots contriv'd, (said she) 

All only to deceive unhappy me? 

Which is the worst? Didst thou in death pretend 

To scorn thy sister, or delude thy friend? 

Thy summoned sister and thy friend had come : 

One sword had serv'd us both, one common tomb: 

Was I to raise the pile, the pow'rs invoke, 

Not to be present at the fatal stroke ? 

At once thou hast destroy'd thyself and me, 

Thy town, thy senate, and thy colony ! 

Bring water ! bathe the wound ; while I in death 

Lay close my lips to hds, and catch the flying breath.'* 

This said, she mounts the pile with eager haste, 

And in her arms the gasping queen embrac'd, 

Her temples chaf 'd ; and her own garments tore, 

To stanch the streaming blood- and cleanse the gore, 



266 jENEIS. 

Thrice Dido trted to raise her drooping head, 
And, fainting, thrice fell grov'ling on the bed ; 
Thrice op'd her heavy eyes, and saw the light, 
But, having foimJ it, sicken'd at the sight, 
And closM her lids at last in endless night. 
Then Juno, grieving that she should sustain 
A death so lingering, and so full of pain, 
Sent Iris down, to free her from the strife 
Of lab'ring nature, and dissolve her life. 
For, since she died, not doom'd by heavVs decree. 
Or her own crime, but human casualty, 
And rage of love, that plung'd her in despair, 
The sisters had not cut the topmost hair, 
Which Proserpine and they can only know; 
Nor made her sacred to the shades below. 
Downward the various goddess took her flight, 
And drew a thousand colours from the light ; 
Then stood above the dying lover's head, 
And said, " I thus devote thee to the dead. 
This off 'ring to the infernal gods 1 bear." 
Thus while she spoke, she cut the fatal he»ir: 
The struggling soul was loos'd and life dissolv'd 
in air. 



END OF VOL. ONE, 



0^, ^Tywut, 



Pm* 



THE 



WORKS OF YIRGIL. 

TRANSLATED 

By JOHN DRYDEK 

TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. 

Vol. II. 




PHILADELPHIA : 
CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER. 

1869. 



£ N E I S. 



BOOK V. 



ARGUMENT. 

£Cne«3, setting- sail from Afric, is driven by a. storm on lh« 
coaat of Sicily, where he is hospitably received by his friend 
Acestes, king of part of the island, and born of Trojan parent- 
age. He applies himself to celebrate the memory of bis fa- 
ther with divine honours, and accordingly institutes funeral 
games, and appoints prizes for those who should conquer in 
them. While the ceremonies are performing, Juno sends Iris 
to persuade the Trojan women to burn the ships, who, upon 
her instigation, set fire to them : which burned four, and would 
have consumed the rest, had not Jupiter, by a miraculous 
shower extinguished it. Upon this, Apneas, by the advice 
of one of his generals, and a vision of his father, builds a 
city for the women, old men, and others, who were either 
unfit for war, or weary of the voyage, and sails for Italy. 
Venus procures of Neptune a safe voyage for him and all his 
men, excepting only his pilot Palinurus, who was unfortu- 
nately lost. 



MEANTIME the Trojan cuts the wat'ry way 
Fix'd on his voyage throu^n the curling sea ; 
Then casting back his eyes, with dire amaze, 
Sees on the Punic shore, the mounting blaze. 
The cause unknown ; yet his presaging mind 
The fate of Dido from the fire divin'd. 
He knew the stormy souls of woman-kind ; 
What secret springs their eager passions move, 
How capable of death for injur'd love. 
Dire auguries from hence the Trojans draw ; 
Till neither fires nor shining shores they saw. 



Now seas and skies their prospect only bound — 

An empty space above, a floating field around. 

But soon the he-av'ns with shadows were o'erspread j 

A swelling cloud hung hov'ring o v er their head: 

Livid it look'd — the threatning of a storm : 

Then night, and horror ocean's face deform. 

The pilot, Palinurus, cried aloud, 

4 < What gusts of weather from that gathering cloud 

My thoughts presage ! Ere yet the tempest roars, 

Stand to your tackle, mates, and stretch your oars; 

Contract your swelling sails, and luff to wind." 

The frighted crew perform the task assign'd. 

Then, to Ins fearless chief, Not heav'n (said he) 

Though Jove himself should promise Italy, 

Can stem the torrent of this raging sea. 

Mark, how the shifting winds from west arise, 

And what collected night involves the skies I 

Nor can our shaken vesselslive at sea. 

Much less against the tempest force their way. 

'Tis Fate diverts our course: and Fate we must obey. 

Not far from hence, if I observ'd aright, 

The southing of the stars, and polar iight, 

Sicilia lies, whose hospitable shores 

in safety we may reach with struggling oars." 

JEneas then replied : " Too soon I find, 

We strive in vain against the seas and wind: 

Now shift your sails: what place can please me more 

Than what you promise, the Sicilian shore, 

Whose hallow'd earth Anchises' bones contains, 

And where a prince of Trojan lineage reigns.." 

The course resolv'd, before the western wind 

They scud amain, and make the port assign'd. 

Meantime Acestes, from a lofty stand, 
Beheld the fleet descending on the land ; 
And, not unmindful of his ancient race, 
Down from the cliff he ran with eager pace, 
And held the hero in a strict embrace. 



Of a rough Libyan bear the spoils he wore ; 

And either hand a pointed jav'iin bore. 

His mother was was a dame of Dardan blood ; 

His sire, Crinisus, a Sicilian flood. 

He welcomes his returning friends ashore 

With plenteous country cates, and homely store. 

Now, when the following mom had chas'd away 
The flying stars, and light restor'd the day, 
iEneas calPd the Trojan troops around, 
And thus bespoke them from the rising ground: 
"Offspring of heav'n, divine Darrianian race ! 
The sun, revolving through th' etherial space, 
The shining circle of the year has fill'd, 
Since first this isle my father's ashes held : 
And now the rising day renews the year— 
A day for ever sad, for ever dear. 
This would I celebrate with annual games, 
With gifts on altars pil'd, and holy flames, 
Though banish'd to Gastulia's barren sands, 
Caught on the Grecian seas, or hostile lands: 
But since this happy storm, our fleet has driven 
(Not, as 1 deem without the will of heaven) 
Upon these friendly shores, and flow'ry plains, 
Which hide Anchises and his blest remains ; 
Let us with joy perform his honours due, 
And pray for prosperous winds, our voyage to renew— 
Pray, that, in towns and temples of our own, 
The name of great Anchises may be known ; 
And yearly games may spread the god's renown. 
Our sports, Acestes, of the Trojan race, 
With royal gifts ordain'd, is pleas'd to grace: 
Two steers on every ship the king bestows: 
His gods and ours shall share your equal vows. 
Besides, if, nine days hence, the rosy morn 
Shall, with unclouded light, the skies adorn, 
That day with solemn sports I mean to grace : 
Light galleys on the seas shall run a wat'ry race : 



b iENElS. 

Some shall in swiftness for the goal contend, 
And others try the twanging bow to bend: 
The strong, with iron gauntlets arcn'd, shall stand 
Opposed in combat on the yellow sand. 
Let all be present at the games prepar'd ; 
And joyful victors wait the just reward. 
Hut now assist the rites, with gariands crownM." 
He said, and first his brows with myrtle bound. 
Then Helymus, by his example led, 
And old Acestes, epch adorn'd his head ; 
Thus young Ascanius, with a sprightly grace, 
His temples tied, and all the Trojan race. 
iEneas then advanc'd amidst the train, 
By thousands follow 1 d through the flow'ry plain, 
To great Anchises 1 tomb ; which when he found, 
He pourVl to Bacchus, on the hallow'd ground, 
Two bowls of sparkling wine, of milk two more, 
And two (from offer'd bulls) of purple gore. 
With roses then the sepulchre he strow'd. 
And thus his father's ghost bespoke aloud: 
" Hail, O ye holy manes! hail again, 
Paternal ashes, now reviewed in vain ! 
The gods permitted not, that you, with me 
Should reach the promised shores of Italy, 
Or Tybei^s flood, what flood soe 1 er it be. 11 
Scarce had he finishM, when, with speckled pride, 
A serpent from the tomb began to glide ; 
His hugy bulk on sev^ high volumes roll'd ! 
Blue was his breadth of back, but streak'd with scaly 

gold: 
Thus riding on his curls, he seem'd to pass 
A rolling fire along, and singe the grass. 
More various colours through his body run, 
Than Iris when her bow imbibes the sun. 
Betwixt the rising altars, and around, 
The sacred monster shot along the ground ; 
With harmless play amidst the bowls he pass'd 
And with his lolling tongue assay'd the taste:' 



iENEIS. 

Thus fed with holy food, the wondrous guest 
Within the hollow tomb, retired to rest. 
The pious prince, surpris'd at what he view'd, 
The fun'ral honours with more zeal renew'd, 
Doubtful if this the place's genius were, 
Or guardian of his father's sepulchre. 
Five sheep, according to the rites, he slew; 
As many swine, and steers of sable hue ; 
Now gen'rous wine he from the goblets pour'd, 
And call'd his father's gbost, from hell restor'd. 
The glad attendants in long order come, 
Off 1 ring their gifts to great Anchises' tomb: 
Some add more oxen ; some divide the spoil, 
Some place the chargers on the grassy soil : 
Some blow the fires, and offer' d entrails broil, 

Now came the day desir'd. The skies were bngnt 
With rosy lustre of the rising light: 
The bord'ring people, rous'd by sounding fame 
Of Trojan feasts, and great Acestes' name, 
The crowded shore with acclamations fill, 
Part to behold, and part to prove their skill. 
And first the gifts in public view they place, 
Green laurel wreaths, and palm — the victor's grace. 
Within the circle, arms and tripods lie, 
Ingots of gold and silver heap'd on high, 
And vests embroider'd, of the Tyrian die. 
The trumpet's clangour then the feast proclaims ; 
And all prepare for their appointed games. 
Four galleys first, which equal rowers bear, 
Advancing, in the watery lists appear. 
The speedy Dolphin that outstrips the wind, 
Bore Mnestheus,author of the Memmian kind: 
Gyas the vast Chimaera's bulk commands, 
Which rising, like a towering city stands: 
Three Trojans tug at ev'ry lab'ring oar ; 
Three banks, in three degrees, the sailors bore; 
Beneath their sturdy strokes the billows roar. 



8 JENEIS 

Sergestus, who began the Sergian race, 
In the great Centaur took the leading place : 
Cloanthus on the sea-green Scylla stood ; 
From whom Cluentius draws his Trojan blood. 

Far in the sea, against the foaming shore, 
There stands a rock : the raging billows roar 
Above his head in storms: but, when 'tis clear, 
Uncurl their ridgy backs, and at his foot appear. 
In peace below the gentle waters run ; 
The cormorants above lie basking in the sun. 
On this the hero fix'd an oak in sight, 
The mark to guide the mariners aright. 
To bear with this, the seamen stretch their oars; 
Then round the rock they steer, and seek the former 

shores. 
The lots decide their place. Above the rest, 
Each leader shining in his Tyrian vest: 
The common crew, with wreaths of poplar boughs, 
Their temples crown, and shade their sweaty brows; 
Besmear'd with oil, their naked shoulders shine. 
All take their seats, and wait the sounding sign : 
They gripe their oars ; and ev'ry panting breast 
Is rais'd by turns with hope, by turns with fear depress'd. 
The clangor of the trumpet gives the sign: 
At once they start, advancing in a line: 
With shouts the sailors rend the starry skies : 
Lash'd with their oars, the smoky billows rise; 
Sparkles the brin} T main, and the vex'd ocean fries. 
Exact in time, with equal strokes they row : 
At once the brushing oars and brazen prow 
Dash up the sandy waves, and ope the depths be- 
low. 
Not fiery coursers, in a chariot race, 
Invade the field with half so swift a pace: 
Not the fierce driver with more fury lends 
The sounding lash, and, ere the stroke descends, 
Low to the wheels his pliant body bends. 



iENEIS. 

The partial crowd their hopes and fears divide, 
And aid, with eager shouts, the favour'd side- 
Cries, murmurs, clamours, with a mixing sound, 
From woods to woods, from hills to hills, rebound. 

Amidst the loud applauses of the shore, 
Gyas outstripp'd the rest, and sprung before: 
Cloanthus, better mann'd, pursu'd him fast ; 
But his o'er-masted galley check'd his haste. 
The Centaur and the Dolphin brush the brine 
With equal oars, advancing in a line: 
And now the mighty Centaur seems to lead, 
And now the speedy Dolphin gets a-head : 
Now board to board the rival vessels row ; 
The billows lave the skies, and ocean groans below. 
They reach'd the mark. Proud Gyas and his train 
In triumph rode, the victors of the main : 
But, steering round, he charg'd his pilot — " Stand 
More close to shore, and skim along the sand. 1 
Let others bear to sea." — Menoetes heard ; 
But secret shelves too cautiously he fear'd, 
And, fearing, sought the deep : and still aloof he 

steer'd. 
With louder cries the captain call'd again : 
" Bear to the rocky shore, and shun the main." 
He spoke, and, speaking, at his stern he saw 
The bold Cloanthus near the shelvings draw. 
Betwixt the mark and him the Scylla stood, 
And in a closer compass plougrTd the flood. 
He pass'd the mark ; and, wheeling, got before: — 
Gyas blasphem'd the gods, devoutly swore, 
Cried out,for anger, and his hair he tore. 
Mindless of others' lives, (so high was grown 
His rising rage) and careless of his own, 
The trembling dotard to the deck he drew, 
And hoisted up, and overboard he threw: 
This done, he seiz'd the helm ; his fellows cheer'd ; 
Turn'd short upon the shelves, and madly steer'd. 



10 jfcNElS 

Hardly his head the plunging pilot rears, 
Clogg'd with his clothes, and cumber'ri with his years; 
Now dropping wet, he climbs the cliff with pain. 
The crowd, that saw him fall, and float again, 
Shout from the distant shore ; and loudly laught, 
To see his heaving breast disgorge the briny draught. 
The following Centaur, and the Dolphin's crew, 
Their vanish'd hopes of victory renew ; 
While Gyas lags they kindle in the race, 
To reach the mark. Sergestus takes the place : 
Mnestheus pursues : and, while around they wind, 
Comes up not half his galley's length behind ; 
Then on the deck, amidst his males, appear'd, 
And thus their drooping courages lie cheer' d ; 
" My friends, and Hector's followers heretofore, 
Exert your vigour ; tug the laboring oar ; 
Stretch to your strokes, my still unconquer'd crew, 
Whom from the flaming walls of Troy i drew. 
In this our common int'rest, let me find 
That strength of hand, that courage of the mind, 
As when you stemm'd the strong Male an flood, 
And o'er the Syrtes' broken billows row'd. 
I seek not now the foremost palm to gain ; 
Though yet — but, ah ! that haughty wish is vain! 
Let those enjoy it whom the gods ordain. 
But to be last, the lags of all the race ! — 
Redeem yourselves and me from that disgrace." 
Now, one and all, they tug amain ; they row 
At the full stretch, and shake the brazen prow. 
The sea beneath them sinks : their lab'ring sides 
Are swell'd, and sweat runs gutt'ring down in tides. 
Chance aids their daring, with unhop'd success: — 
Sergestus, eager with his beak to press 
Betwixt the rival galley and the rock, 
Shuts up the unwieldy Centaur in the lock, 
The vessel struck ; and, with the dreadful shock, 
Her oars she shiver'd and her head she broke. 



iENEIS. 11 

The trembling rowers from their banks arise, 

Ann anxious iur themselves, renounce the prize. 

With iron poles they heave her off the shores, 

And gather from the sea their floating oars. 

The crew of Mnestheus, with elated minds, 

Urge their success, and cali the willing winds, 

Then piy their oars, and out their Liquid way 

In larger compass on the roomy sea. 

As when the duve, her rocky hold forsakes, 

Kous'd in a fright, her sounding wings she shakes ; 

The cavern rings with clatt'ring ; out she flies, 

And leaves her callow care, and cleaves the skies: 

At first she flutters, but at length she springs 

To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings: 

So Mnestheus in the Dolphin cuts the sea; 

And flying with a force, that force assists his way. 

Sergestus in the Centaur soon he pass'd, 

Wedg'd in the rocky shoals, and sticking fast. 

In vain the victor he with cries implores, 

And practises to row with shatter'd oars. 

Then Mnestheus bears with Gyas, and outflies ; 

The ship, without a pilot, yields the prize. 

Unvanquish'd Scylla now alone remains: — 

Her he pursues; and all his vigour strains. 

Shouts from the fav'ring multitude arise ; 

Applauding Echo to the shouts replies ; 

Shouts, wishes, and applause, run rattling through the 

skies. 
These clamours with disdain the Scylla heard, 
Much grudg'd the praise, but more the robb'd reward: 
Resolv'd to hold their own, they mend their pace, 
All obstinate to die, or gain the race. 
Rais'd with success, the Dolphin swiftly ran— 
For they can conquer who believe they can. — 
Both urge their oars : and Fortune both supplies; 
(And both perhaps had shar'd an equal prize) 
When to the seas Cloanthus holds his hands, 
And succour from the wat'ry pow'rs demands : 



12 .ENEIS. 

" Gods of the liquid realms on which t row ! 

If, giv'n by you, the laurel bind my brow, 

(Assist to make me guilty of my vow !) 

A snow-white bull shall on your shore be slain: 

His oifer'd entrails cast into the main, 

And ruddy wine from golden goblets thrown, 

Your grateful gift, and my return shall own." 

The choir of nymphs, and Phorcus from b?low, 

With virgin Panopea, heard his vow; 

And old Portunus with his breadth of hand, 

Push'd on and sped the galley to the land. 

Swift as a shaft, or winged wind, she fliea, 

And, darting to the port, obtains the prize. 

The herald summons all. and then proclaims 
Cloanthus conqueror of the naval games. 
The prince with laurel crowns the victor's head ; 
And three fat steers are to his vessel led — 
The ships reward — with gen'rous wine beside, 
And sums of silver, which the crew divide. 
The leaders are distinguished from the rest; 
The victor honour'd with a nobler vest, 
Where gold and purple strive in equal rows, 
And needlework its happy cost bestows. 
There, Ganymede is wrought with living art, 
Chasing through Ida's groves the trembling hart: 
Breathless he seems, yet eager to pursue ; 
When from aloft, descends, in open view, 
The bird of Jove, and sousing on his prey, 
With crooked talons bears the boy away. 
In vam, with lifted hands and gazing eyes, 
His guards behold him soaring through the skies, 
And dogs pursue his flight, with imitated cries. 

Mnestheus the second victor was declar'd ; 
And, summon'd there, the second prize he shar'd — 
A coat of mail, which brave Demoleus bore, 
More brave iEneas from his shoulders tore, 
n single combat on the Trojan shore. 



JENEIS. 13 

This was ordain'd for Mnestheus to possess — 
[n war for his defence, for ornament in peace. 
Rich was the gift, and glonons to behold, 
And yet sopond'rous with its plates of gold, 
That scarce two servants could the weight sustain: 
Vet loaded thus, Demoleus o'er the plain 
Pursu'd, and lightly seiz'd the Trojan train. 
The third, succeeding to the last reward, 
Two goodly bowls of mass} 7 silver shar'd, 
With figures prominent, and richly wrought, 
And two brass caldrons from Doriona brought. 

Thus all rewarded bv the hero's hands, 
Their concurring temples bound with purple bands. 
And now Sergestus, clearing from the rock, 
Brought back his galley, shattered with tiie shock. 
Forlorn she look'd, without an aiding oar, 
And, hooted by the vulgar, made to shore : 
As when a snake, surpris'd upon the road, 
Is crushed athwart her body by the load 
Of heavy wheels; or with a mortal wound 
Her belly bruis'd, and trodden to the ground — 
In vain, with loosen'd curls, she crawls along ; 
Vet, fierce above she brandishes her tongue, 
Glares with her eyes, and bristles with her scales ; 
But, grov'ling in the dust, her parts unsound she trails. 
So slowly to the port the Centaur tends, 
But, what she wants in oars, with sails amends. 
Vet, for his galley sav'd, the grateful prince 
Ispleas'd th' unhappy chief to recompense: 
Phoioe, the Cretan slave, rewards his care, 
Beauteous herself, with lovely twins as fair. 

From thence his way the Trojan hero bent 
Into the neighb'ring plain, with mountains pent, 
Whose sides were shaded with surrounding wood, 
Full in the midst of this fair valley stood 
A native theatre, which, rising slow 
By just degreesj o'erlook'd the ground below. 



X4 -ENEIS. 

High on a sylvan throne the leader sate: 

A num'rous train attend in solemn state. 

Here those, that in the rapid course delight, 

Desire of honour, and the prize, invite. 

The rival runners without order stand; 

The Trojans mix'd with the Sicilian band. 

First, Nisus with Euryalus appears — 

Euryalus,a boy of blooming years, 

With sprightly grace and equal beauty crown'd — 

Nisus, lor friendship to the youth, renown'd. 

Diores next, of Priam's royal race, 

Then Salius, join'd with Patron, took their place; 

(But Patron in Arcadia had his birth, 

And Salius, his, from Arcanian earth) 

Then two Sicilian youths — the names of these 

Swift Herymus, and lovely Panopes, 

(Both jolly huntsmen, both in forests bred, 

And owning old Acestes for their head) 

With sev'ral others of ignobler name, 

Whom time has not deliver'd o'er to fame. 

To these the hero thus his thoughts explain'd, 
In words which gen'ral approbation gain'd ; 
" One common largess is for all design'd, 
(The vanquished and the victor shall be join'd: 
Two darts of polish'd steel and Gnossian wood 
A silver studded axe, alike bestow'd. 
The foremost three have olive wreaths decreed : 
The first of these obtains a stately steed 
Adorn' d with trappings; and the next in fame, 
The quiver of an Amazonian dame. 
With feather'd Thracian arrows well supplied: 
A golden belt shall gird his manly side, 
Which with a sparkling diamond shall be tied. 
The third this Grecian helmet shall content." 
He said. To their appointed base they went : 
With beating hearts th' expected sign receive, 
And, starting all at once,the barrier leave. 



-ENEIS. 15 

Spread out, as on the winged winds, they flew, 
And seizM the distant goal with greedy view. 
Shot from the crowd, swift Nisus all o'erpass'd ; 
Nor storms, nor thunder, equal half his haste. 
The next, but, though the next, yet far disjoin'd, 
Came Salius; and Euryalus behind ; 
Then Helymus, whom young Diores plied, 
Step after step, and almost side by side, 
His shoulders pressing— and, in longer space, 
Had won, or left at least a dubious race. 

Now spent, the goal they almost reach at last, 
When eager Nisus, hapless in his haste, 
Slipp'd first, and, slipping, fell upon the plain, 
Soak'd with the blood of oxen newly slain. 
The careless victor had not mark'd his way; 
But, treading where the tre?ch'rous puddle lay, 
His heels flew up : and on the grassy floor 
He fell, besmear'd with filth and holy gore. 
Not mindless then, Euryalus, of thee, 
Nor of the sacred bonds of amity, 
He strove th 1 immediate rival's hope to cross, 
And caught the foot of Salius as he rose ; 
So Salius lay extended on the plain ; 
Eurvalus springs out. the prize to gain, 
And leaves ths crowd ; — applauding peals attend 
The victor to the g^al, who vanquishM by his friend 
Next Helymus ; and then Diores came, 
By two misfortunes made the third in fame. 

But Salius enters, and, exclaiming loud 
For justice, deafens and disturbs the crowd ; 
Urges his cause may in the court be heard ; 
And pleads the prize is wrongfully conferred. 
But favour for Euryalus appears ; 
His blooming beauty, with his tender years, 
Had brib'd the judges for the promis'd prize; 
Besides, Diores fills the court with cries, 
Who vainly reaches at the last reward, 
11 the first palm on Salius be conferr'd. 



16 MNFAS. 

Then thus the prince ; " Let no disputes arise: 

Where Fortune plac'd it, 1 award the prize. 

But Fortune's errors give me leave to mend, 

At least, to pity iny deserving friend." 

He said, and, from among the spoils, he draws 

(Pond'rous with shaggy mane and golden paws) 

A lion's hide : to Salius this he gives : 

Nisus with envy sees the gift, and grieves: 

" If such rewards to vanquished men are due, 

(He said) and falling is to rise by you, 

What prize may Nisus from your bounty claim, 

Who merited the first rewards and fame ? 

In falling, both an equal fortune tried ; 

Would Fortune for my fall so well provide !" 

With this he pointed to his face, and show'd 

His hands and all his habit smear'd with blood. 

TV indulgent father of the people smil'd, 

And caus'd to be produc'd an ample shield, 

Of wondrous art, by Didymaon wrought, 

Long since, from Neptune's bars,in triumph brought. 

This giv'n to Nisus, he divides the rest, 

And equal justice in his gifts express'd, 

The race thus ended, and rewards bestow'd, 

Once more the prince bespeaks th' attentive crowd; 

" If there be here, whose dauntless courage dare 

In gauntlet fight, with limbs and body bare, 

His opposite sustain in open view, 

Stand forth the champion, and the games renew. 

Two prizes I propose, and thus divide — 

A bull with gilded horns, and fillets tied, 

Shall be the portion of the conqu'ring chief: 

A sword and helm shall cheer the loser's grief." 

Then haughty Dares in the lists appears: 
Slalking he strides, his head erected bears. 
His nervous arms the weighty gauntlet wield ; 
And loud applauses echo through the field. 
Dares alone in combat us'd to stand 
The match of mighty Paris, hand to hand ; 



2ENF.IS. 17 

The same, at Hector's fon'rals, undertook 

Gigantic Butes, of th' Amycian stock, 

And, by the stroke of his resistless hand, 

Stretcird the vast bulk upon the 5^ellow sand. 

Sucn Dares was ; and such he strode along, 

And drew the wonder of the gazing throng. 

His brawny back, and ample breast he shows ; 

His lifted arms around his head he throws, 

And deals, in whistling air, his empty blows. 

His match is sought ; but, through the trembling band, 

Not one dares answer to the proud demand. 

Presuming of his force, with sparkling eyes 

Already he devours the promis'd prize, 

He claims the bull with awless insolence, 

And, having seiz'd his horns, accosts the prince : 

" If none my matchless valour dare oppose, 

How long shall Dares wait his dastard foes? 

Permit me, chief, permit without delay, 

To lead this uncontended gift away." 

The crowd assents, and, with redoubled cries, 

For the proud challenger demands the prize. 

Acestes, fir'd with just disdain to see 
The palm usurp'd without a victory, 
Reproach'd Entellus thus, who sate beside, 
And heard, and saw, unmov'd, the Trojan's pride* 
u Once, but in vain, a champion of renown, 
So tamely can you bear the ravish'd crown, 
A prize in triumph borne before your sight, 
And shun for fear the danger of the fight? 
Where is our Eryx now, the boasted name, 
The god who taught your thund'ring arm the game ? 
Where now your baffled honour? where the spoil 
That fill'd your house, and fame that fill'd our isle?" 
Entellus thus: "My soul is still the same, 
Unmov'd with fear, and mov'd with martial fame, 
But my chill blood is curdled in my veins ; 
And scarce the shadow of a man remains. 

VOL. II. 2 



18 jENEIS. 

Oh ! could I turn To that fair prime again, 

That prime, of which this boaster is so vain ! 

The brave, who this decrepit age denes, 

Should feel my force, without the promis'd prize.** 

He said, and rising at the word, he threw 

Two pona'rous gauntlets down in open view — 

Gauntlets, which Eryx wont in fight to wield, 

And sheath his hands with, in the listed field. 

With fea«" and wonder seiz'd, the crowd beholds 

The gloves of death, with sev'n distinguished folds 

Of tough bull-hides: the space within is spread 

With iron, or with loads of heavy lead. 

Dares himself was daunted at the sight, 

Renounced his challenge, and refus'd to fight. 

Astonish'd at their weight, the hero stands, 

And pois'd the pond'rous engines in his hands. 

44 What had your wonder (said Kritellus) been, 

Had you the gauntlets of Alcides seen; 

Or view'd the stern debate on this unhappy green r 

These which I bear, your brother Eryx bore, 

Still mark'd with batterVI brains, and mingled gore. 

With these he long sustained the Herculean arm , 

And these I wielded while my blood was warm, 

This languished frame while better spirits fed, 

Ere age unstrung my nerves, or time oeersnow'd my 

head. 
But, if the challenger these arms refuse, 
And cannot wield their weight, or dare not use; 
If great JEneas and Acestes join 
In his request, these gauntlets I resign: 
Let us with equal arms perform the fight; 
And let him leave to fear, since I resign my right.'"' 
This said, Er.tellus for the strife prepares ; 
Strpt of his quilted coat, his body bares; 
Composed of mighty bones, and brawn he stands, 
A goodly towering object on the sands. 
Then just iEneas equal arms supplied, 
Which round their shoulders to tiieir wrists they lied. 



Both on the tiptoe stand, at full extent, 

Their arms aioft, their bodies inly oent; 

Their heads from aiming blows they hear afar; 

With clashing gauntlets then provoke the war. 

One on his youth and pliant limbs relies ; 

One on his sinews and his giant size. 

The last is stiff with age, his motion slow ; 

He heaves for breath ; he staggers to and fro ; 

And clouds of issuing smoke his nostrils loudly blow. 

Yet equal in success, they ward, they strike ; 

Their ways are diff 'rent, but their art alike. 

Befi re, behind, the blows are dealt; around 

Their hollow sides the rattling thumps resound. 

A storm of strokes, well meant, with fury flies- 

And errs about their temples, ears, and eyes — 

Nor always errs ; for oft the gauntlet draws 

A sweeping stroke along the crackling jaws. 

Heavy with age, Entellus stands his ground, 

But with his warping body wards the wound. 

His hand and watchful eye keep even pace ; 

While Dares traverses, and shifts his place, 

And, like a captain who beleaguers round 

Some strong built castle on a rising ground, 

Views all th' approaches with observing eyes! 

This and that other part in vain ne tries, 

And more on industry than fon e relies. 

With hands on high, Entellus threats the foe, 

But Dares watch'd the motion irom below, 

And slipp'd aside, and shun'd the long descending 

blow. 
Entellus wastes his forces on the wind, 
And, thus deluded of the stroke design'd, 
Headlong and heavy fell : his ample breast, 
And weighty limbs his ancient mother press'tL 
So falls a hollow pine, that long had stood 
On Ida's height, or Erymanthus' wood, 
Torn from the roots. The dift'ring nations rise; 
And shouts and minded murmu'* rend the skies, 



20 JENEIS. 

Acestes runs with eager haste, to raise 
The fall'n companion of his youthful days. 
Dauntless he rose, and to the fight returned: 
With shame his glowing cheeks, his eyes with fury 

burn'd. 
Disdain and conscious virtue fur'd his breast 
And with redoubled force his foe he press'd 
He lavs on load with either hand, amain, 
And headlong drives the Trojan o'er the plain ; 
Nor stops, nor stays ; nor rest, nor breath allows ; 
But storms of strokes descend about his brows, 
A rattling tempest and a hail of blows. 
But now the prince, who saw the wild increase 
Of wounds, commands the combatants to cea^e, 
And bounds Eritellus' wrath, and bids the peace. 
First to the Trojan, spent with toil, he came, 
And sooth'd his sorrow for the sufier'd shame. 
44 What, fury seiz'd my friend ? The gods, (said he) 
To him propitious, and averse to thee, 
Have giv'n his arms superior force to thine. 
'Tis madness to contend with strength divine." 
The gauntlet-fight thus ended, from the shore 
His faithful friends unhappy Dares bore: 
His mouth and nostrils pour'd a purple flood : 
And pounded teeth came rushing with his blood. 
Faintly he stagger'd through the hissing throng, 
And hung his head, and trail'd his legs along. 
The sword and casques are carried by his train ; 
But with his foe the palm and ox remain. 

The champion, then, before zEneas came, 
Proud of his prize, but prouder of his fame; 
" O goddess born, and you, Dardanian host, 
Mark with attention, and forgive my boast: 
Learn what I was, by what remains; and know, 
From what impending fate you sav'd my foe." 
Sternly he spoke, and then confronts the bull; 
And, on his ample forehead aiming full, 
The deadly stroke, descending, pierc'd the skull. 



JENE18. 21 

Down drops the beast, nor needs a second wound, 
But sprawls in pangs of death, and spurns the ground, 
Then thus: " in Dares' stead i offer this. 
Eryx ! accept a nobler sacrifice : 
•'lake the last gift my wither'd arms can yield : 
The gauntlets I resign, and here renounce the field." 

This clone, iEneas orders, for the close, 
The strife of archers, with contending bows. 
The mast, Sergestus 1 shatter'd galley bore, 
\\ ith his own hands he raises on the shore. 
A fluttering dove upon the top they tie, 
The living mark at which their arrows fly. 
The rival archers in a line advance, 
Their turn of shooting to receive from chance. 
A helmet holds thei: names: the lots are diavvn ; 
On the first scroll was read Hippocoon : 
The people shout. Upon the next was found 
Young Mnestheus, late with naval honours crownV 
The third contained Eurytion's noble name, 
Thy brother, Fandarus, and next in fame, 
Whom 1 alias urged the treaty to confound, 
And send among the Greeks a feather'd wound. 
Acestes, in the bottom, last reinainVi, 
Whom not his age from youthful sports restrain'd 
Soon ail with vigour bend their trusty bows ; 
And from the quiver each his arrow cho>e. 
Hippocoon's was first: with forceful sway 
It riew, and, whizzing, cut the liquid way. 
Tix'd in the mast the feather'd weapon stands 
The fearful pigeon flutters in her bands; 
And the tree trembled ; and the shouting cries 
Of the pleas'd peoole rend the vaulted skies. 
Then Mnestheus to the head his arrow drove, 
With, lifted eyes, and took his aim above, 
But made a glancing shot, and miss'd the dove 
Vet miss'd so narrow that he cut the cord. 
Which fastened by the foot, the flitting bird 



£2 iENEIS. 

The captive thus released, away she flies. 
And beats, with clapping wings the yielding skies. 
His bow already bent, Eurytion stood; 
And, having first invok'd his brother god, 
Mis winged shaft with eager haste he sped. 
The fatal message reach'd her as she fled : 
She leaves her life aloft ; she strikes the ground 
And renders back the weapon in the wound. 
Aiestes, grudging at his lot, remains, 
Without a prize to gratify his pains. 
Yei. shooting upward, sends his shaft, to show 
An archer's art, and boast his twanging bow. 
The feather' d arrow gave a dire portent: 
And latter augurs judge from this event. 
Chaf 'd by the speed, it fir'd ; and as it flew, 
A trail of following flames, ascending, drew. 
Kindling they mount, and mark the shiny way 
Across the sky as falling meteors play, 
And vanish into wind, or in a blaze decay. 
The Trojans and Sicilians wildly stare, 
And, trembling, turn their wonder into pray'i 
The Dardan prince put on a smiling face, 
And strain'd Acestes with a close embrace; 
Then hon'ring him with gifts above the rest, 
Turn'd the bad omen, nor his fears confess'd. 
" The gods (said he) this miracle have wrought* 
And order' d you the prize without the lot. 
Accept this goblet, rough with figur'd gold, 
Which Thracicm Cisseus gave my sire of old: 
This pledge of ancient amity receive, 
Which to my second sire I justly give." 
He said, and with the trumpet's cheerful sound, 
Proclaimed him victor, and with laurel crown'd. 
For good Eurytion envied him the prize, 
Though he transfix'd the pigeon in the skies. 
Who cut the line, with second gifts was grac'd ; 
The third was his, whose arrow pierc'd tiie mast. 



2ENEIS. 23 

The chief, before the games were wholly done, 
Call'd Periphantes, tutor to his son, 
And whisper' d thus: " With speed Ascanius find ; 
And, if his childish troop be ready join'ct, 
On horse-back let him grace his grand si re's day, 
And lead his equals arm'd in just array." 
He said ; and, calling out, the cirque he clears. 
The crowd withdrawn, an open plain appears. 
And now the noble youths, of form divine, 
Advance before their fathers, in a line: 
The riders grace the steeds; the steeds with glory 
shine. 

Thus inarching on in military pride, 
Shouts of applause resound from side to side. 
Their casques adorn'd with laurel wreaths they wear, 
Each brandishing aloft a cornel 9pear. 
Some at their backs their gilded quivers bore , 
Their chains of burnish'd gold hung down before. 
Three graceful troops they form'd upon the green : 
Three graceful leaders at their head were seen ; 
Twelve lollow'd ev'ry chief, and left a space between. 
The first young Priam led — a lovely boy, 
Whose grandsire was the unhappy king of Troy ; 
(His race in after-times was known to fame, 
New honours adding to the Lalian name) 
And well the royal boy his Thracian steed became. 
White were the fetlocks of his feet before ; 
And on his front a snowy star he bore. 
Then beauteous Atys, with lulus bred, 
Of equal age, the second squadron led, 
The last in Older, but the first in place, 
First in the lovely features of his face, 
Rode fair Ascanius on a fiery steed, 
Queen Dido's gift, and of the Tyrian breed. 
Sure coursers for the rest the king ordains, 
With golden bits adorn'd, and purple reins. 

The pleas'd spectators peals of shouts renew, 
And all the parents in the children view ; 



24 jEneis. 

Their make, their motions, ami their sprightly grace, 
And hopes and fears alternate in their face. 

Th' unfledg'd commanders, and their martial train, 
First make the circuit of the sandy plain 
Around their sires, and, at the appointed sign, 
Drawn up in beauteous order form a line. 
The second signal sounds: the troop divides 
In three distinguish'd parts, with three distinguished 

guides. 
Again they close, and once again disjoin: 
in troop to troop oppos'd, and line to line, 
They meet : they wheel; they throw their darts afar, 
With harmless rage, and well-dissembled war. 
Then in a round the mingled bodies run ; 
Flying they follow, and pursuing shun ; 
Broken, they break; and rallying, they renew 
In other foitns the military shew. 
At last, in order undiscern'd they join, 
And march together in a friendly line, 
And as the Cretan labyrinth of old, 
W ith wand'ring ways, and many a winding fold, 
Involved the weary feet without redress, 
In a round error, which denied recess; 
So fought the Trojan boys in warlike play, 
Turn'd and returned, and still a diff 'rent way. 
Thus dolphins, in the deep, each other chase 
Jn circles when tiiey swim around the wat'ry race. 
This game, these carousals, A_scanius taught; 
And building Alba, to the Latins brought; 
Show'd what he learn'd: the Latin sires impart 
To their succeeding sons the graceful art: 
From these,imperial Rome receiv'd the game, 
Which Troy, the youths the Trojan troop, they name. 

Thus far the sacred sports they celebrate : 
But Fortune soon resum'd her ancient hate: 
For, while they pay the dead his annual dues, 
Those envied r'tesSaturnian Juno views: 



And sends the goddess of the various bow, 

To try new methods of revenge below ; 

Supplies the winds to wing her airy way, 

Y\ here in the port secure the navy lay. 

Swiftly fair Ins down her arch descends, 

And, undiscern'd, her fatal voyage ends. 

She saw the gathering crowd ; and gliding thence, 

The desert shore, and fleet without defence. 

The Trojan matrons, on the sands alone, 

With sighs and tears Anchises' death bemoan: 

Then, turning to the sea their weeping eyes, 

Their pity to themselves, renews their cries. 

•* Alas !" said one, "■ what oceans yet remain 

For us to sail ! what labours to sustain !" 

All take the word, and, with a gen'ral groan, 

Implore the gods for peace and places of their own. 

The goddess, great in mischief, views their pains, 

And in a woman's form her heavenly limbs restiains. 

In face and shape, old Beroe she became, 

Doryclus' wife, a venerable dame, 

Once bless'd with riches and a mother's name. 

Thus chang'd, amidst the crying crowd she ran, 

Mix'd with the matrons and these words began : 

"O wretched we! whom not the Grecian pow'r, 

Nor flames, destroy'd, in Troy's unhappy hour ! 

O wretched we! reserv'd by cruel Fate, 

Beyond the ruins of the sinking state ! 

Now sev'n revolving years are wholly run, 

Since this improsp'rous voyage we begun ; 

Since toss'd from shores to shores, from lands to lands, 

Inhospitable rocks and barren sands. 

Wand'ring in exile through the stormy sea, 

We search in vain for flying Italy. 

Now cast by Fortune on this kindred land, 

What should our rest and rising walls withstand, 

Or hinder here to fix our banish'd band i 

O country lost, and gods redeemed in vain, 

If still in endless exile we remain I 



26 S1NEIS 

Shall we no more the Trojan walls renew, 

Or streams of some dissembled Simoi's view ? 

Haste i join with me ! th' unhappy fleet consume ! 

Cassandra bids; and I declare her doom. 

In sleep I saw her ; she supplied my hands 

(For this I more than dreamt) with flaming brand*;: 

" With these (said she) these wand'ring ships desuoy ■ 

These are your fated seats, and this your Troy. 

Tine calls you now, the precious hour employ : 

Slack not the good presage, while heav'n inspires 

Our minds to dare, and gives the ready fires. 

See! Neptune's altars minister their brands: 

The god is pleas'd ; the god supplies our hands." 

Then from the pile, a flaming fir she drew, 

And toss'd in air, amidst the galleys threw. 

Rapt in amaze, the matrons wildly stare: 

Then Pyrgo, reverenc'ri for her hoary hair, 

Pyrgo, the nurse of Priam's num'rous race, 

" No Beroe this, though she belies her face! 

What terrors from her frowning front arise ! 

Behold a goddess in her ardent eyes ! 

What rays around her heavenly face are seen ! 

Mark her majestic voice, and mote than mortal mien 1 

Beroe but now I left, whom, pin'd with pain, 

Her age and anguish from these rites detain." 

She said. The matrons, seiz'd with new amaze, 

Roll their malignant eyes, and on the navy gaze, 

They fear, and hope, and neither part obey: 

They hope the fated land, but fear the fatal way. 

The goddess, having done her task below, 

Mounts up on equal wings, and bends her painted bow. 

Struck with the sight, and seiz'd with rage divine, 

The matrons prosecute their mad design : 

They shriek aloud; they snatch, with impious hands, 

The food of altars, firs and flaming brands, 

Green boughs and saplings, mingled in their haste, 

And smoking torches, on the ships they cast. 



The flame, unstopp'd at first, more fury gains; 
And Vulcan rides at large with loosen'd reins: 

Triumphant to the painted stem he soars, 

And seizes in his way, the banks, and crackling oars. 

Eumelus was the first, the news to bear, 

While vet they crowd the rural theatre. 

Then, what they hear, is witness'd by their eyes: 

A storm of sparkles, and of flames, arise. 

Ascanius took th' alarm, while yet he led, 

His early warriors on his prancing steed, 

And, spurring on, his equals soon o'erpass'd ; 

Nor could his frighted friends reclaim his haste. 

Soon as the royal youth appear'd in view, 

He sent his voice before him as he flew : 

" What madness moves you, matrons ! to destroy 

The last remainders of unhappy Troy? 

Not hostile fleets, but your own hopes you burn, 

And on your friends your fatal fury turn. 

Behold your own Ascanius!" — While he said, 

He drew his glittering helmet from his head, 

In which the youths to sportful arms he led. 

By this, ..Eneas and his train appear; 

And now the women, seiz'd with shame and fear, 

Dispersed, to woods and caverns take their flight, 

Abhor their actions, and avoid the li^ht ; 

Their friends acknowledge, and their error find, 

And shake the goddess from their alter'd mind. 

Not so the raging fires their fury cease, 
But, lurking in the seams, with seeming peace, 
Work on their way amid the smouldering tow, 
Sure in destruction, but in motion slow. 
The silent plague through the green timber eats, 
And vomits out a tardy flame by fits, 
Down to the keels, and upward to the sails, 
The fire descends, or mounts, but still prevails : 
Nor buckets pour'd, nor strength of human hand, 
Can the victorious element withstand. 



28 JENEI8. 

The pious hero rends his robe, and throws 
To heav'n his hands, and with his hands, his vows. 
" Jove ! (he cried) if pray'rs can yet have place , 900 
it thou ahhor'st not all the Dardan race ; 
If any spark of pity still remain; 
If gods are gods, and not invok'd in vain; 
Yet spare the relics of the Trojan train ! 
Yet from the flames our burning vessels free! 
Oi let thy fury fall alone on me ; 
At this devoted head thy thunder throw, 
And send the willing sacrifice below." 

Scarce had he said, when southern storms arise: 
From pole to pole, the forky lightning flies: 
Loud rattling shakes the mountains and the plain: 
Heav'n bellies downward, and descends in ram. 
Whole sheets of water from the clouds are sent, 
Which hissing through the planks the (lames prevent, 
And stop the fiery pest. Four ships alone 
Burn to the waist, and four the fleet atone. 

But doubtful thoughts the hero's heart divide, 
If he should still in Sicily reside, 
Forgetful of the fates, — or tempt the main, 
In hope the promis'd Italy to gain. 
When Nautes old and wise — to whcm alon 
The will of heav'n by Pallas was foreshown— 
Yers'd in portents, experienc'd and inspifd 
To tell events, and what the Fates requir'd, 
Thus while he stood, to neither part inclin'd, 
With cheerful words, reliev'd his lab'ring mind: 
" O goddess-born ! resign'd in ev'ry state, 
With patience bear, with prudence push your fate 
By suffring well, our fortune we subdue ; 
Fly wnen she frowns ; and, when she calls pursue. 
Your friend Acestes is of Trojan kind ; 
To him disclose the secrets of your mind : 
Trust in his hands your old and useless train, 
Too numerous for the ships which yet remain-— 



TENETS. 29 

The feeble, old, indulgent of their ease. 
The dames who dread the dangers of the seas, 
With all the dastard crew who dare not stand 
The shock of battle with your foes by land. 
Here you may build a common town for all, 
And, from Acestes' name, Acesta call." 
The reason, with his friend's experience join'd, 
Encouiag'd much, but more disturb'd, his mind. 
'Twas dead of night ; when, to his slumb'ring eyes, 
His father's shade descended from the skies; 
And thus he spoke ; " O, more than vital breath, 
Lov'd while 1 liv'd,and dear ev'n alter death ! 
O son, in various toils and troubles toss'd ! 
The king of heav'n employs my careful ghost 
On his commands — the god who sav'd from fire 
Your flaming fleet, and heard your just desire, 
The wholesome counsel of your friend receive, 
And here the coward train and women leave: 
The chosen youth, and those who nobly dare, 
Transport, to tempt the dangers of the war. 
The stern Italians will their courage try: 
Rough are their manners, and their minds are high. 
But first to Pluto's palace you shall go, 
And seek my shade among the blest below ; 
For not with impious ghosts my soul remains, 
Nor suffers, with the damn'd, perpetual pains, 
But breathes the living air of soft Eiysian plains. 
The chaste Sibylla shall your steps convey, 
And blood of offer'd victims free the way. 
There shall you know what realms Lie gods assign, 
And learn the fates and fortunes of your line. 
But now farewell ! I vanish with the night, 
And feel the blast of heav'n's approaching light." 
He said, and mix'd with shades, and took his airy 

flight. 
" Whither so fast?" the filial duty cried; 
"Ah why, ah! why the wish'd embrace denied:" 



30 *".NEIS. 

He said, and rose: as holy zeal inspires, 

He rakes hot embers, and renews the fires; 

His country gods and Vesta then adores 

With cakes and incense, and their aid implores. 

.Next, for his friends and royal host he sent, 

Reveal'd his vision, and the god's intent, 

With his own purpose. — All, without delay, 

The will of Jove, and his desiies, obey. 

They list with women each degen'rate name, 

Who dares not hazard life for future fame. 

These they cashier. The brave remaining few, 

Oars, banks, and cables, half consum'd, renew. 

The prince designs a city with the plough: 

The lots theii several tenements allow. 

This part is nam'd from Ilium, that from Troy; 

And the new king ascends the throne with joy : 

A chosen senate from the people draws; 

Appoints the judges, and ordains the laws. 

Then, on the top of Eryx, they begin 

A rising temple to the t'aphian queen. 

Anchises, last, is honour' d as a god : 

A priest is added, annual gifts bestow'd; 

And groves are planted round his blest abode. 

Nine days they pass in feasts, their temples crownM 

And fumes of incense in the fanes abound. 

Then from the south arose a gentle breeze, 

That curl'd the smoothness of the glassy seas : 

The rising winds a ruffling gale afford, 

And call the merry mariners aboard. 

Now loud laments along the shores resound, 
Of parting friends in close embraces bound. 
The trembling women, the degen'rate train 
Who shunn'd the frightful dangers of the main, 
E'en those desire to sail, and take their share 
Of the rough passage, and the promis'd war; 
Whom good JEneas cheers ; and recommends 
To their new master's care his fearful friends; 



JENFAS. 31 

On Eryx' altars three fat calves he lays ; 

A lamb new-fallen to the stormy seas; 

Then slips his halsers, and his anchors weighs. 

High on the deck the godlike hero stands, 

With olive crown'd, a charger in his hands, 

Then cast the reeking entrails in the brine, 

And pour'd the sacrifice of purple wine. 

Fresh gales arise : with equal strokes they vie, 

And brush the buxom seas, and o'er the billows fly. 

Meantime the mother-goddess, full of fears, 
To Neptune thus address'd, with tender tears: 
•» The pride of Jove's imperious queen, the rage, 
The malice, which no sufferings can assuage, 
Compel me to these prayers; since neither fate, 
Nor time, nor pity, can remove her hate. 
E'en Jove is thwarted by his haughty wife : 
Still vanquished, yet she still renews the strife. 
As if 'twere little to consume the town 
Which avv'd the world, and wore th' imperial crown, 
She prosecutes the ghost of Troy with pains, 
And gnaws, e'en to the bones, the last remains. 
Let her the causes of her hatred tell ; 
But you can witness its effects too well. 
You saw the storm she rais'd on Libyan floods, 
That rnix'd the mountain billows with the clouds; 
W T hen, bribing iEolus, she took the main, 
And mov'd rebellion in your wat'ry reign. 
With fury she possess'd the Dardan dames, 
To burn their fleet with execrable flames, 
And forc'd .Eneas, when his ships were lost, 
To leave his followers on a foreign coast. 
For what remains, your godhead I implore, 
And trust my son to your protecting pow'r. 
If neither Jove's nor Fate's decree withstand, 
Secure his passage to the Latian land." 

Then thus the mighty ruler of the main : 
* What may not Venus hope from Neptune's reign ? 



32 JF.NEIS. 

My kingdom claims your birth : my late defence 
Of your endangered fleet may claim your confidence. 
Nor less by land than sea my deeds declare, 
How much your lov'd iEneas is my care. 
Thee Xanthus ! and thee, Simoi's ! I attest — 
Your Trojan troops when proud Achilles press'd. 
And drove before him headlong on the plain, 
And dash'd against the wails the trembling train* 
When floods were fill'd with bodies of the slain • 
When crimson Xanthus, doubtful of his way, 
Stood up on ridges to behold the sea ■ 
(New heaps come tumbling in, and chok'd his way) 
When your iEneas fought, but fought with odds 
Of force unequal, and unequal gods; 
I spread a cloud before the victor's sight, 
Sustained the vanquished, and secur'd, his flight — 
E'en then secur'd him, when I sought with joy 
The vow'd destruction of ungrateful Troy. 
My will's the same : fair goddess ! fear no more, 
Your fleet shall safely gain the Latian shore : 
Their lives are giv'n : one destin'd head alone 
Shall perish, and for multitudes atone." 

Thus having arni'd with hopes her anxious mind, 
His finny team Saturn: an Neptune join'd, 
Then adds the foamy-bridle to their jaws, 
And to the loosen'd reins permits the laws. 
High on the waves his azure car he guides: 
Its axles thunder ; and the sea subsides; 
And the smooth ocean rolls her silent tides. 
The tempests fly before their father's face; 
Trains of inferior gods his triumph grace ; 
And monster whales before their masier play, 
And choirs of Tritons crowd the wat'ry way. 
The marshall'd pow'rs in equal troops divide 
To right and left : the gods his better side 
Inclose ; and, on the worse, the Nymphs and 
Nereids ride. 



.EXEIS. 33 

Now smiling hope, with sweet vicissitude, 
Within the hero's mind his joys renew'd. 
He calls to raise the masts, the sheets display: 
The cheerful crew with diligence obey ; 
They scud before the wind, and sail in open sea. 
A head of all, the master pilot steers, 
And, as he leads, the following navy veers. 
The steeds of Night had traveH'd half the sky; 
The drowsy rowers on their benches lie ; 
When the soft god of sleep, with easy flight, 
Descends, and draws behind a trail of light. 
Thou, Palinurus, art his destin'd prey ; 
To thee alone he takes his fatal way. 
Dire dreams to thee, and iron sleep, he bears ; 
And, lighting on thy prow, the form of Phordas wears 
Then thus the traitor god began his tale : 
" The winds, my friend, inspire a pleasing gale ; 
The ships, without thy care, securely sail. 
Now steal an hour of sweet repose ; and I 
Will take the rudder, and thy room supply." 
To whom the yawning pilot , half asleep : 
" Me dost thou bid to trust the treach'rous deep, 
The harlot-smiles of her dissembling face, 
And to her faith commit the Trojan race? 
Shall I believe the Syren South again, 
And, oft betray'd, not know the monster mam ?" 
He said his fasten'd hands the rudder keep; 
And fix'd on rwav'n, his eyes repel invading sleep. 
The god was wroth, and at his temples threw 
A branch in Lethe dipp'd, and drunk with Stygian dew 
The pilot, vanquished by the pow'r divine, 
Soon clos'd his swimming eyes, and lay supine. 
Scarce were his limbs extended at their length, 
The god, insulting with superior strength, 
Fell heavy on him, plung'd nim in the sea, 
And, with the stern, the rudder tore away. 
Headlong he fell, and struggling in the main, 
Cried out for helping hands, but cried in vain. 

vol. ii. 3 



34 jENEIS. 

The victor daemon mounts obscured in air; 

Wliile the ship sails without the pilot's care. 

On Neptune's faith the floating fleet relies: 

But wiiat the man forsook, the god supplies ; 

And o'er the dang'rous deep, secure the navy flies. 

Glides by the Syren's cliffs, a shelfy coast, 

Long infamous for ships and sailors lost, 

And white with bones. Th' impetuous ocean roars* 

And rocks rebellow from the sounding shores. 

The watchful hero felt the knocks ; and found 

The tossing vessel sail'd on shoaly ground. 

Sure of his pilot's loss, he takes himself 

The helm, and steers aloof, and shuns the shelf. 

Inly he griev'd, and, groaning from the breast, 

Deplor'd his death ; and thus his pain express'd : 

!i For faith repos'd on seas, and on the flatt'ring sky, 

Thy naked corse is doom'd on shores unknown to lie * 



JE N E I S. 



BOOK VI. 



ARGUMENT. 

The Sibyl foretells iEneasthe adventures ne should meet with 
in Italy. She attends him to hell ; describing to him the va- 
rious scenes of that place, and conducting 1 him to his father 
Anchises, who instructs him in those sublime mysteries, of ihe 
soul of the world, and the transmigration ; and shows hirn 
that glorious race of heroes, which was to descend from hi in 
and his posterity. 



ATE said, and wept ; then spread his sails before 
The winds, and reach'd at length the Cuman shore : 
Their anchors dropp'd, his crew the vessels moor. 
They turn their heads to sea, their sterns to land, 
And greet with greedy joy, th 1 Italian strand. 
Some strike from clashing flints their fiery seed ; 
Some gather sticks, the kindled flames to feed, 
Or search for hollow trees, and fell the woods, 
Or trace through valleys the discover'd flood. 
Thus while their sev'ral charges they fulfil, 
The pious prince ascends the sacred hill 
Where Phoebus is ador'd ; and seeks the shade, 
Which hides from sight his venerable maid. 
Deep in a cave the Sibyl makes abode ; 
Thence full of fate returns, and of the god. 
Through Trivia's grave they walk, and now behold, 
And enter now, the temple roof T d with gold. 



36 jENEIS. 

When Daedalus, tofiy the Cretan shore, 
His heavy limbs, on jointed pinions bore, 
(The first who sail'd in air) 'tis sung by Fame 
To the Cunnean coast, at length he came, 
\nd here alighting, built this cosily frame. 
Inscrib'd to Phoebus, here he hung on high 
The steerage of his wings, that cut the sky. 
Then o'er the lofty gate, nis art emhnss'd 
Androgeos' death, and (off 'rings co his ghost) 
Sev'n youths from Athens, 3 T early sent, to meet 
The fate appointed by revengeful Crete. 
And next to these the dreadful urn was plac'd, 
11 which the destin'd names by lots were cast : 
The mournful parents stand around in tears; 
And rising Crete against their shore appears. 
There too, in living sculpture, might be seen 
The mad affection of the Cretan queen ; 
Then how she cheats her bellowing lover's eye ; 
The rushing leap, the doubtful progeny — 
The lower part a beast, a man above — 
The monument of their polluted love. 
Nor far from tnence he grav'd the wond'rousmaze, 
A thousand doors, a thousand winding ways: 
Here dwells the monster hid from human view, 
Not to be found but by the faithful clue ; 
Till the kind artist, mov'd with pious grief, 
Lent to the loving maid this last relief, 
And all those erring paths describ'd so well, 
That Theseus conquer'd, and the monster fell. 
Here hapless Icarus had found his part, 
Had not the father's grief restrain'd his art. 
He twice essay'd to cast his son in gold ; 
Twice from his hands he dropp'd the forming mould. 

All this with wond'ring eyes iEneas view'd 
Each varying object his delight renew'd. 
Eager to read the rest — Achates came, 
And by his side the mad divining dame, 
'i'he priestess of the god, DeYphobe her naine. 



" Time suffers not," she sai(i, " to feed your eyes 

With empty pleasures: haste the sacrifice. 

Sev'n bullocks, yet unyok'd,for Phoebus choose, 

And for Diana sev'n unspotted ewes." 

This said, the servants urge the sacred rites, 

While to the temple she the prince invites. 

A spacious cave, within its farmost part, 

Was hew'd and fashion'd by laborious art, 

Through the hill's hollow sides: before the place, 

A hundred doors, a hundred entries grace: 

As many voices issue, and the sound 

Of Sibyl's words as many times rebound. 

Now to the mouth they come. Aloud she cries, 

" This is the time ! inquire your destinies I 

He comes ! behold the god !" Thus while she said, 

(And shiv'ring at the sacred entry staid) 

Her colour chang'd ; her face was not the same ; 

And hollow groans from her deep spirit came. 

Her hair stood up ; convulsive rage possess'd 

Her trembling limbs, and heav'd her laboring breast. 

Greater than human kind she seem'd to look, 

And, with an accent more than mortal, spoke. 

Her staring eyes, with sparkling fury roll, 

When all the god came rushing on her soul. 

Swiftly she turn'd, and, foaming as she spoke, 

" Why this delay ?" she cried — " the povv'rs invoke. 

Thy pray'rs alone can open this abode ; 

Else vain are my demands, and dumb the god." 

She said no more. The trembling Trojans hear, 

O'erspread with a damp sweat, and holy fear. 

The prince himself, with awful dread possess'd, 

His vows to great Apollo thus address'd : 

" Indulgent god ! propitious pow'r to Troy, 

Swift to relieve, unwilling to destroy ! 

Directed by whose hand, the Dardan dart, 

Pierc'd the proud Grecian's only mortal part! 

Thus far, by Fate's decrees, and thy commands, 

Through ambient seas, and through devouring sands, 



38 JENEIS. 

Our exil'd crew has sought th' Ausonian ground: 

And now, at length, the Hying coast is found. 

Thus far the fate of Troy, from place to place, 

With fury has pursu'd her wand'ring race. 

Here cease, ye pow'rs, and let your vengeance end : 

Troy is no more, and can no more offend. 

And thou, O sacred maid, inspir'd to see 

The event of things in dark futurity; 

Give me what heav'n has promised to my fate, 

To conquer and command the Latian state ; 

To fix my wand'ring gods, and find a place 

For the long exiles of the Trojan race, 

Then shall my grateful hands a temple rear 

To the twin gods, with vows and solemn pray'r; 

And annual rites, and festivals, and games, 

Shall be perform'd to their auspicious names. 

Nor shalt thou want thy honours in my land ■ 

For there thy faithful oracles shall stand, 

Preserv'd in shrines: and ev'ry sacred lay, 

Which by thy mouth, Apollo shall convey — 

All shall be treasur'd by a chosen train 

Of holy priests, and ever shall remain 

But oh ! commit not thy prophetic mind 

To flitting leaves, the sport of ev'ry wind, 

Lest they disperse in air our empty fate. 

Write not, but what the pow'rs ordain, relate." 

Struggling in vain, impatient of her load, 
And laboring underneath, the pond'rous god, 
The more she strove to shake him from her breast, 
With more and far superior force he press'd , 
Commands his entrance, and without control, 
Usurps her organs, and inspires her soul. 
Now, with a furious blast, the hundred doors 
Ope of themselves ; a rushing whirlwind roars 
Within the cave, and Sibyl's voice restores: 
•* Escap'd the dangers of the wat'ry reign, 
Vet more and greater ills by land remain. 



JENEIS. 39 

The coast, so long desir'd, (nor doubt th' event) 

Thy troops shall reach, but, having reach'd, repent. 

Wars, horrid wars, I view — a held of blood, 

And Tyber rolling with a purple flood. 

Simojis nor Xanthus shall be wanting there: 

A new Achilles shall in arms appear, 

And he too, goddess-born. Fierce Juno's hate, 

Added to hostile force, shall urge thy fate. 

To what strange nation shalt not thou resort, 

Driv'n to solicit aid at every court ! 

The cause the same which Ilium once oppress'd — 

A foreign mistress, and a foreign guest. 

But thou, secure of soul, unbent with woes, 

The more thy fortune frowns, the more oppose. 

The dawnmgs of thy safety shall be shown, 

From — whence thou least shall hope — a Grecian town." 

Thus, from the dark recess, the Sibyl spoke ; 
And the resisting air the thunder broke ; 
The cave rebellow'd, and the temple shook. 
TrT ambiguous god, who rul'd her lab'ring breast, 
In these mysterious words his mind express'd, 
Some truths reveal'd, in terms invoVd the rest. 
At length her fury fell ; her foaming ceas'd, 
And, ebbing in her soul, the god decreas'd. 
Then thus the chief: " No terror to my view 
No frightful face of danger can be new. 
Inur'd to surfer, and resolv'd to dare, 
The Fates, without my pow'r, shall be without my care 
This let me crave — since near your grove the road 
To hell lies open, and the dark abode, 
Which Acheron surrounds, th' innavigable flood — 
Conduct me through the regions void of light, 
And lead me longing to my father's sight. 
For him, a thousand dangers I have sought, 
And, rushing where the thickest Grecians fought, 
Safe on my back the sacred burden brought. 
He, for my sake, the raging ocean tried, 
And wrath of heav'n, (my still auspicious guide) 
And bore, beyond the strength decrepit age supplied, 



40 MNElis. 

Oft, since he breath'd his last, in dead of night, 
His rev'rend image stood before ray sight ; 
Enjoin'd to seek, below, his holy shade — 
Conducted there by your unerring aid. 
But you, if pious minds by pray'rs are won, 
Oblige the father, and protect the son. 
Yours is the pow'r; nor Proserpine in vain 
Has made you priestess of her nightly reign. 
If Orpheus, arni'd with his enchanting lyre, 
The ruthless king with pity could inspire, 
And from the shades below redeem his wife, 
If Pollux, off' ring his alternate life, 
Could free his brother, and can daily go 
By turns aloft, by turns descend below ; — 
Why name 1 Theseus, or his greater friend, 
Who trod the downward path, and upward could 

ascend ?— 
Not less than theirs, from Jove my lineage came ; 
My mother greater, my descent the same." 
So pray'd the Trojan prince, and, while he pray'd, 
His hand upon the holy altar laid. 
Then thus replied the prophetess divine : 

41 O goddess-born, of great Anchises' line! 
The gates of hell are open night and day ; 
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way : 
But, to return, and view the cheerful skies — 
In this the task and mighty labour lies. 

To few great Jupiter imparts this grace, 

And those of shining worth, and heav'nly race* 

Betwixt those regions and our upper light, 

Deep forests and impenetrable night 

Possess the middle space: th' infernal bounds 

Cocytus, with his sable waves, surrounds. 

But, if so dire a love your soul invades, 

As twice below to view the trembling shades; 

If you so hard a toil will undertake, 

As twice to pass th' innavigable lake ; 



£NEIS. 41 

Receive ray counsel. In the neighb'ring grove 

There stands a tree: the queen of Stygian Jove 

Claims it her own i thick woods and gloomy night 

Conceal the happy plant from human sight 

One bough it bears ; but (wond'rous to behold) 

The ductile rind and leaves of radiant gold: 

This from the vulgar branches must be torn, 

And to fan* Proserpine the present borne, 

Ere leave be giv'n, to tempt the nether skies. 

The first thus rent, a second will arise; 

And the same metal the same room supplies. 

Look round the wood with lifted eyes, to see 

The lurking gold upon the fatal tree : 

Then rend it off, as holy rites command: 

The willing metal will obey thy hand, 

Following with ease, if, favoured by thy fate, 

Thou art foredoomed to view the Stygian state: 

If not, no labour nan the tree constrain ; 

And strength of stubborn arms, and steel, are vain. 

Besides, you know not, while you here attend, 

TV unworthy fate of your unhappy friend : 

Breathless he lies : and his unbuned ghost, 

DeprivM of fun'ral rites, pollutes your host 

Pay first his pious dues: and, for the dead. 

Two sable sheep around his hearse be led ; 

Then, living turfs upon his body lay : 

This done, securely take the destin'd way, 

To find the regions destitute of day." 

She said, and held her peace. — .Eneas went 

Sad from the cave, and full of discontent, 

Unknowing who the sacred Sibyl meant • 

Achates, the companion of his breast, 

Goes grieving by his side, with equal care? oppressed, 

Walking, they talk'd, and fruitlessly divin'd, 

What friend the priestess by those words design'd. 

But soon the}* found an object to deplore ; 

Misenus lay extended on the shore— 



42 JENEIS. 

Son of the god of winds — none so renown'd, 

The warrior trumpet in the field to sound, 

With breathing brass, to kindle fierce alarms, 

And rouse to dare their fate in honourable arms. 

He serv'd great Hector, and was ever near, 

Not with his trumpet only, but his spear. 

But, by Pelides 1 dim when Hector fell, 

He chose iEneas, and he chose as well. 

Swoln with applause, and aiming still at more, 

He now provokes the seagods from the shore. 

With envy, Triton heard the martial sound, 

And the bold champion, for his challenge, drowifd ; 

Then cast his mangled carcass on the strand. — 

The gazing crowd around the body stand. 

All weep ; but most ^Eneas mourns his fate, 

And hastens to perform the fun'ral state. 

In altar-wise, a stately pile they rear; 

The basis broad below, and top advanc'd in air. 

An ancient wood, fit for the work design'd, 

(The shady covert of the savage kind) 

The Trojans found : the sounding axe is plied: 

Firs, pines, and pitch-trees, and the tow'ring pride 

Of forest ashes, feel the fatal stroke ; 

And piercing wedges cleave the stubborn oak. 

Huge trunks of trees, felPd from the steepy crown 

Of the bare mountains, roll with ruin down. 

Arm'd like the rest the Trojan prince appears, 

And by his pious labour, urges theirs. 

Thus while he wrought, revolving in his mind 

The ways to compass what his wish design'd, 

He cast his eyes upon the gloomy grove, 

And then with vows implor'd the queen of love: 

" O may thy pow'r, propitious still to me, 

Conduct my steps to find the faial tree, 

In this deep forest, since the Sibyl's breath 

Foretold, alas ! too true, Mi sen us" death." 

Scarce had he said, when, full before his sight, 

Two doves descending from their airy flight, 

Secure upon the grassy plain alight. 



-ENEIS. 43 

He knew his mother's birds, and thus he pray'd : 

u Be you my guides with your auspicious aid; 

And lead my footsteps till the branch be found, 

Whose glitt'ring shadow gilds the sacred ground. 

And thou, great parent ! with celestial care, 

In this distress, be present to my pray'r." 

Thus having said, he stopp'd, with watchful sight 

Observing still the motions of their flight, 

What course they took, what happy signs they shew. 

They led, and fluttering by degrees, withdrew 

Still farther from the place, but still in view : 

Hopping and flying thus they led him on 

To the slow lake, whose baleful stench to shun, 

They wing'd their flight aloft, then stooping low, 

Perch'd on the double tree, that bears the golden bough. 

Through the green leaves the glitt'ring shadows glow 

As, on the sacred oak, the wintry misletoe, 

Where the proud mother views her precious brood, 

And happier branches which she never sow'd. 

Such was the glitt'ring ; such the rudy rind, 

And dancing leaves, that wanton'd in the wind. 

He seiz'd the shining bough with griping hold, 

And rent away, with ease, the ling'ring gold, 

Then to the Sibyl's palace bore the prize. 

Meantime the Trojan troops, with weeping eyes, 

To dead Misenus pay his obsequies. 

First, from the ground, a lofty pile they rear, 

Of pitch-trees, oaks and pines, and unctuousfir; 

The fabric's front, with cypress twigs they strew, 

And stick the sides with boughs of baleful yew. 

The topmost part his glitt'ring arms adorn ; 

W r arm waters, then, in brazen caldrons borne, 

Are pour'd to wash his body, joint by joint ; 

And fragrant oils the stifTen'd limbs anoint. 

With groans and cries, Misenus they deplcre : 

Then on a bier, with purple cover'd o'er, 

The breathless body, thus bewail'd, they lay, 

And fire the pile, their faces turn'd away : 

(Such rev'rent rites their fathers us' d to pay.} 



44 MNEIS. 

Pure oil and incense on the fire they throw, 
And fat of victims which his friends bestow. 
These gifts the greedy flames to dust devour; 
Then on the living coals, red wine they pour; 
And, last, the relics by themselves dispose, 
Which in a brazen urn the priests inclose. 
Old Coryna3us compass'd thrice the crew, 
And dipp'd an olive-branch in holy dew ; 
Which thrice he sprinkled round ; and thrice aloud 
Invok'd the dead, and then dismiss'd the crowd. 

But,good iEneas order'd on the shore 
A stately tomb, whose top a trumpet bore, 
A soldier's falchion, and a seaman's oar. 
Thus was his friend interr'd : and deathless fame 
Still to the lofty cape consigns his name. 

These rites perform'd, the prince without delay, 
Hastes, to the nether world, his destin'd way, 
Deep was the cave ; and, downward as it went 
From the wide mouth, a rocky rough descent ; 
And here th' access a gloomy grove defends; ' 
And here tn * innavigable lake extends, 
O'er whose unhappy waters, void of light, 
No bird presumes to steer his airy flight: 
And deadly stenches from the depth arise, 
And streaming sulphur, that infects the skies. 
From hence the Grecian bards their legends make, 
And give the name Avernus to the lake. 
Four sable bullocks, in the yoke untaught, 
For sacrifice,the pious hero brought. 
The priestess pours the wine betwixt their horns ; 
Then cuts the curling hair ; that first oblation burns, 
Invoking Hecat hither to repair — 
A powerful name in hell, and upper air. 
The sacred priests, with ready knives, bereave 
The beasts of life, and in full bowls receive 
The streaming blood : a lamb to Hell and Night 
(The sable wool without a streak of white) 



JLNEIS. 45 

#meas offers; and by Fate's decree, 
A barren heifer, Proserpine to thee. 
With holocausts he Pluto's altar fills: 
Sev'n brawny bulls with his own hand he kills: 
Then, on the broiling entrails, oil he pours: 
Which, ointed thus, the raging flame devours. 
Late the nocturnal sacrifice begun, 
Nor ended, till the next returning sun. 
Then earth began to bellow, trees to dance, 
And howling dogs in glimm'ring light advance, 
Ere Hecat came — u Far hence be souls profane !" 
The Sibyl cried — " and from the grove abstain ' 
Now, Trojan, take the way thy fates afford : 
Assume thy courage, and unsheath thy sworcu" 
She said, and pass'd along the gloomy space: 
The prince pursu'd her steps with equal pace. 

Ye realms, yet unreveal'd to human sight i 
Ye gods, who rule the regions of the night ! 
Ye gliding ghosts ! permit me to relate 
The mystic wonders of your silent state. 

Obscure they went thro' dreary shades, that led 
Along the waste dominions of the dead. 
Thus wander travellers in wood by night, 
By the moon's doubtful and malignant light, 
When Jove in dusky clouds involves the skies, 
And the faint crescent shoots by fits before their eyes. 

Just in the gate, and in the jaws of hell, 
Revengeful Cares and sullen Sorrows dwell, 
And pale Diseases, and repining Age, 
Want, Fear, and Famine's unresisted rage ; 
Here, Toils, and Death, and Death's half-brother, Sleep, 
(Forms terrible to view) their sentry keep ; 
With anxious Pleasures of a guilty miccf, 
Deep Frauds before, and open Force behind ; 
The Furies' iron beds ; and Strife, that shakes 
Her hissing tresses, and unfolds her snakes : 
Full in the midst of this infernal road, 
An elm displays her dusky arms abroad: 



46 JLKEIS. 

The god of sleep there hides his heavy head: 
And empty dreams on ev'ry leaf is spread. 
Of various forms,unnumber'd spectres more, 
Centaurs,and double shapes, besiege the door. 
Before the passage, horrid Hydra stands, 
And Briareus with all his hundred hands ; 
Gorgons, Geryon with his triple frame ; 
And vain Chimaera vomits empty flame. • 
The chief unsheath'd his shining steel, prepared, 
Though seiz'd with sudden fear, to force the guard, 
Off 'ring his brandisffd weapon, at their face ; 
Had not the Sibyl stopp'd his eager pace, 
And told him what those empty phantoms were— 
Forms without bodies, and impassive air. 
Hence to deep Acheron they take their way, 
Whose troubled eddies, thick with ooze and clay, 
Are whirPd aloft, and in Cocytis lost : 
There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coast— 
A sordid god : down from his hoary chin 
A length of beard descends, uncomb'd, unclean: 
His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire ; 
A girdle, foul with grease, binds his obscene attire. 
He spreads his canvass; with his pole he steers; 
The freights of flitting ghosts in his thin bottom bear* 
He look'd in years ; yet, in his years, were seen 
A youthful vigour, and autumnal green. 
An airy crowd came rushing where he stood, 
Which fill'd the margin of the fatal flood — 
Husbands and wives, boys and unmarried maids, 
And mighty heroes' more majestic shades, 
And youths, entomb'd before their fathers' eyes, 
With hollow groans, and shrieks, and feeble cries. 
Thick as the leaves in autumn strow the woods, 
Or fowls, by winter forc'd, forsake the floods, 
And wing their hasty flight to happier lands- 
Such, and so thick, the shiv'ring army stands, 
And press for passage with extended hands. 



jENEIS. 47 

Now these, now those, the surly boatmen bore: 
The rest he drove to distance from the shore. 
The hero, who beheld, with wond'ring eyes, 
The tumult mix'd with shrieks, laments, and cries, 
Ask'd of h»s guide, what the rude concourse meant? 
Why to the shore the thronging people bent? 
What forms of law among the ghosts were us'd ? 
Why some were ferried o'er, and some refused? 
" Son of Anchises ! offspring of the gods ! 
(The Sibyl said) you see the Stygian floods, 
The sacred streams, which heav'n's imperial state 
Attests in oaths, and fears to violate. 
The ghosts rejected are th' unhappy crew 
Depriv'd of sepulchres and fun'ral due: 
The boatman, Charon : those, the buried host, 
He ferries over to the farther coast ; 
Nor dares his transport vessel cross the waves 
With such whose bones are not compos'd in graves. 
A hundred years they wander on the shore ; 
At length, their penance done, are wafted o'er." 
The Trojan chief *\is forward pace repress'd, 
Revolving anxious thoughts within his breast. 
He saw his friends, who, whelm' d beneath the waves, 
Their fun'ral honours claim'd, and ask'd their quiet 

graves. 
The lost Leucaspis in the crowd he knew, 
Aivd the brave leader of the Lycian crew, 
Whom, on the Tyrrhene seas, the tempest met ; 
The sailors master'd, and the ship o'erset. 
Amidst the spirits, Palinurus press'd, 
Yet fresh from life, a new-admitted guest, 
Who, while he steering view'd the stars, and bore 
His course from Afric to the Latian shore, 
Fell headlong down. The Trojan fix'd his view, 
And scarcely thro* the gloom the sullen shadow knew. 
Then thus the prince: "What envious povv'r, O friend . 
Brought your lov'd life to this disastrous end ? 



48 JENKIS 

For Phoebus, ever true in all he said, 
Has in your fate alone, my faith betray'd. 
The god loretold you should not die, before 
Yoj reach'd, secure from seas, th' Italian shore. 
Is this th' unerring pow'r !" — The ghost replied: 
44 Nor Phop.bus flattei'd, nor his answers lied ; 
Nor envious gods have sent me to the deep: 
But, while the stars and course of heav'n I keep, 
My wearied eyes were seiz'd with fatal sleep. 
I tell ; and, with my weight, the helm constrained 
Was drawn along, which yet my gripe retain'd. 
Nor by the winds and raging waves I swear, 
Your safety, more than mine, was then my care ; 
Lest, of the guide bereft, the rudder lost, 
Your ship should run against the rocky coast. 
Three blust'riug nights, borne by the southern blast, 
I floated, and discover'd land at last ; 
High on a mounting wave, my head I bore, 
Forcing my strength, and gath'ring to the sho*e. 
Panting, but past the danger, now I seiz'd 
The craggy cliffs, and my tir'd members eas'd. 
While, cumber'd with my dropping clothes, I lay, 
The cruel nation, covetous of prey, 
Stain'd with my blood th' unhospitable coast: 
And now by winds and waves, my lifeless limbs are 

toss'd : 
Which, O ! avert, by yon ethereal light, 
Which I have lost for this eternal night : 
Or, if by dearer ties you may be won, 
By your dead sire, and by your living son, 
Redeem from this reproach my wand'ring ghost, 
Or with your navy seek the Velin coast, 
And in a peaceful grave my corpse compose • 
Oi, if a nearer way your mother shows, 
(Without whose aid, you durst not undertake 
This frightful passage o'er the Stygian lake) 
Lend to this wretch your hand, and waft him o'er 
To the sweet banks of yon forbidden shore." 



JENEIS. 49 

Scarce had lie said : the prophetess began : 

"What hopes delude thee, miserable man ! 

Think'st thou, thus unintomb'd, to cross the floods, 

To view the Furies and infernal gods, 

And visit, without leave, the dark abodes ? 

Attend the term of long revolving years : 

Fate, and the dooming gods, are deaf to tears. 

This comfort of thy dire misfortune take — 

The wrath of heav'n, inflicted for thy sake, 

With vengeance shall pursue ttY inhuman coast, 

Till they propitiate thy offended ghost, 

And raise a tomb, with vows and solemn pray'r , 

And Palinurus' name the place shall bear." 

This calm'd his cares — sooth'd with his future fame. 

And pleas'd to hear his propagated name. 

Now nearer to the Stygian lake they draw : 
Whom, from the shore, the surly boatman saw : 
Observed their passage through the shady wood, 
And mark'd their near approaches to the flood . 
Then thus he call'd aloud, inflam'd with wrath : 
" Mortal, whate'er, who this forbidden path 
In arms presum'st to tread ! I charge thee, stand 
And tell thy name, and bus'ness in the land. 
Know, this the realm of night — the Stygian shore : 
My boat conveys no living bodies o'er : 
Nor was I pleas'd, great Theseus once to bear, 
(Who forc'd a passage with his pointed spear, 
Nor strong Alcides — men of mighty fame ; 
And from th 1 immortal gods their lineage came 
In fetters one the barking porter tied, 
And ,ook him trembling from his sov'reign's side: 
Two sought by force to seize his beauteous bride. n 
To whom the Sibyl thus: u Compose thy mind : 
Nor frauds are here contrived, nor force designed. 
Still may the dog the wand'ring troops constrain 
Of air}- ghosts, and vex the guilty train ; 
And witn her grisly lord his lovely queen remain. 

>'0L. ii. 4 



50 JENfc'.iS. 

The Trojan chief, whose lineage is from Jove, 

Much fam'd for arms, and more for filial love, 

Is sent to seek ins sire in your Elysian grove. 

If neither piety, nor heav'n's command, 

Can gain his passage to the Stygian land, 

This fatal present shall prevail, at least" — 

Then show'd the shining bough, conceal'd within hei 

vest. 
No more was needful : for the gloomy god 
Stood mute with awe, to see the golden rod ; 
Admir'd the destin'd off 'ring to his queen — 
A venerable gift, so rarely seen. 
His fury thus appeas'd, he puts to land : 
The ghosts forsake their seats at his command : 
He clears the deck, receives the mighty freight ; 
The leaky vessel groans beneath the weight. 
Slowly she sails, and scarcely stems the tides: 
The pressing water pours within her sides. 
rtis passengers at length are wafted o'er, 
Expos'd, in muddy weeds, upon the miry shore 
No sooner landed, in this den they found 
The triple porter of the Stygian sound, 
Grim Cerberus, who soon began to rear 
His crested snakes, and arm'd his bristling hair, 
The prudent Sibyl had before prepar'd 
A sop, in honey steep'd, to charm the guard ; 
Which, mix'd with powerful drugs, she cast before 
His greedy grinning jaws, just op'd to roar. 
With three enormous mouths he gapes ; and straight, 
With hunger press'd, devours the pleasing bait. 
Long draughts of sleep his monstrous limbs enslave; 
He reels, and falling, fills the spacious cave. 
The keeper charm'd, the chief without delay 
Pass'd on, and took th' irremeable way. 
Before the gates, the cries of babes new-born, 
Whom Fate had from their tender mothers torn, 
Assault his ears : then those, whom form of laws 
Condemn'd to die, when traitors judg'd their cause. 



J^NEIS. 51 

Nor want they lots, nor judges to review 

The wrongful sentence, and award anew. 

Minos, the strict inquisitor, appears ; 

And lives and crimes, with his assessors, hears. 

Round in his urn, the blended balls he rolls, 

Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls. 

The next in place and punishment, are they 

W no prodigally threw their souls away — 

Fools, who, repining at their wretched state, 

And loathing anxious life, suborn'd their fate. 

With late repentance, now they would retrieve 

Their bodies they forsook, and wish to live ; 

Their pains and poverty desire to bear, 

To view the light of heav'n, and breathe the vital air: 

But Fate forbids ; the Stygian floods oppose, 

And wiihtfnine circling streams, the captive souls inclose 

Not far from hence, the Mournful Fields appear, 
So call'd from lovers that inhabit there. 
The souls, whom that unhappy flame invades, 
In secret solitude and myrtle shades 
Make endless moans, and, pining with desire, 
Lament too late their unextinguish'd fire. 
Here Procris, Eriphyle here he found 
Baring her breast, yet bleeding with the wound 
Made by her son. He saw Pasiphae there, 
With Phaedra's ghost, a foul incestuous pair. 
There Laodamia, with Evadne, moves — 
Unhappy both, but loyal in their loves: 
Creneus, a woman once, and once a man, 
But ending in the sex she first began. 
Not far from these Phoenician Dido stood, 
Fresh from her wound, her bosom bathd in blood ; 
Whom when the Trojan hero hardly knew, 
Obscure in shades, and with a doubtful view, 
(Doubtful as he who sees, through dusky night, 
Or thinks he sees the moon's uncertain light) 
With tears he first approach'd the sullen shade; 
And as his love inspired him. thus he sai^ • 



52 £KF.IS. 

" Unhappy queen ! then is the common breath 

Of rumour true, in your reported death, 

And 1» alas ! the cause ? — By heav'n, I vow, 

And all the pow'rs that rule the realms below, 

Unwilling I forsook your friendly state, 

Commanded by the gods, and forc'd by Fate — 

Those gods, that Fate, whose unresisted might 

Have sent me to those regions void of light, 

Througn the vast empire of eternal night. 

Nor dar'd I to presume, that, press'd with grief, 

My flight should urge you to this dire relief. 

Stay, stay your steps, and listen to my vows ! 

'Tis the last interview that Fate allows !" 

In vain he thus attempts hev mind to move 

With tears and pray'rs, and late-repenting love. 

Disdainfully she look'd ; then turning round, 

She fix'd her eyes unmov'd upon the ground, 

And, what he says and swears, regards no more, 

Than the deaf rocks, when the loud billows roar; 

But whirl'd away to shun his hateful sight, 

Hid in the forest, and the shades of night ; 

Then sought Sichreus through the shady grove, 

Who answer'd all h^r cares, and equall'd all her love. 

Some pious tears the pitying hero paid, 

And follow'd with his eyes the flitting shade, 

Then took the forward way by Fate ordain'd, 

And with his guide, the further fields attain'd, 

Where, sever'd from the rest, the warrior souls re- 

main'd. 
Tydeus he met, with Meleager's race, 
The pride of armies, and the soldiers' grace ; 
And pale Adrastrus with his ghastly face. 
Of Trojan chiefs he view'd a numerous train, 
All much lamented, all in battle slain — 
Glaucus and Medon, high above the rest, 
Antenor's sons, and Ceres' sacred priest, 
And proud ldseus, Priam's charioteer, 
Who shakes his empty reins, and aims his airy spear. 



-ENEIS. 63 

The gladsome ghosts, in circling troops, attend, 
And with unwearied eyes behold their friend ; 
Delight to hover near, and long to know 
What bus'ness brought him to the realms below. 

But Argive chiefs, and Agamemnon's train 
When his refulgent arms flash'd through the shady 

plain, 
Fled from his well-known face, with wonted fear, 
As when his thundering sword and pointed spear 
Drove headlong to their ships, and glean'd the routed 

rear. 
Tliey rais'd a feeble cry with trembling notes : 
But the weak voice deceived their gasping throats. 
Here Priam's son, Dei'phobus, he found, 
W 7 hose face and limbs were one continu'd wound. 
Dishonest, with lopp'd arms, the youth appears, 
Spoil'd of his nose, and shortened of his ears. 
He scarcely knew him, striving to disown 
His blotted form, and blushing to be known ; 
And therefore first began : " O Teucer's race ! 
Who durst thy faultless figure thus deface ? 
What heart could wish, what hand inflict this dire 

disgrace? 
'Twas fam'd, that in our last and fatal night, 
Your single prowess long sustain'd the fight, 
Till tir'd, not forc'd, a glorious fate you chose, 
And fell upon a heap of slaughter'd foes. 
But, in remembrance of so brave a deed, 
A tomb and fun'ral honours I decreed ; 
Thrice call'd your manes on the Trojan plains: 
The place your armour and your name retains. 
Your body too I sought, and, bad 1 found, 
Design'd for burial in your native ground " 

The ghost replied • " Your piety has paid 
A.L needful rites, to rest my wand'ring shade: 
But cruel Fate, and my more cruel wife, 
To Grecian swords betray'd my sleeping life. 



54 *NEIS. 

These are the monuments of Helen's love — 
The shame I bear below, the marks I bore above. 
You know in what deluding joys we past 
The night, that was by heav'n decreed our last. 
For, when the fatal horse, descending down, 
Pregnant with arms, o'erwhelm'd th 1 unhappy town r 
She feign'd nocturnal orgies : left my bed, 
A nd, mix'd with Trojan dames, the dances led ; 
Then, waving high her torch, the signal made, 
Winch roiis' d the Grecians from their ambuscade, 
With watching overworn, with cares oppress'd, 
Unhappy I had laid me down to rest ; 
And heavy sleep my weary limbs possess'd. 
Meantime my worthy wife our arms mislaid, 
And, from beneath my head, my sword convey'd ; 
The door unlatch'd, and, with repeated calls, 
Invites her former lord within my walls. 
Thus in her crime her confidence she plac'd, 
And with new treasons would redeem the past. 
What need I more ? Inlo the room they ran, 
And meanly murder'd a defenceless man. 
Ulysses, basely born, first led the way. — 
Avenging pow'rs ! with justice if I pray 
That fortune be their own another day ! 
Hut answer you ; and in your turn relate. 
What brought you, living, to the Stygian state. 
Driv'n by the winds and errors of the sea, 
Or did you heav'n's superior doom obey ? 
Or tell what other chance conducts your way, 
To view, with mortal eyes, our dark retreats, 
Tumults and torments of th' infernal seats." 

While thus, in talk, the flying hours thev pass, 
The sun had finish'd more than half his race: 
And they perhaps, in words and tears had spent 
The little time of stay, which heav'n had lent: 
But thus the Sibyl chides their long delay : 
* Night rushes down, and headlong drives the day : 



JENEIS. 55 

'Tis here in different paths, the way divides. 

The right to Pluto's golden palace guides: 

The left, to that unhappy region tends, 

Which to the depth of Tartarus descends — 

The seat of night profound, and punish'd fiends. 1 ' 

Then thus Dei'phobus: u O sacred maid ! 

Forbear to chide ; and be your will obey'd. 

Lo ! to the secret shadows I retire. 

To pay my penance till my years expire. 

Proceed, auspicious prince, with glory crown'd, 

And born to better fates than I have found." 

He said: and, while he said, his steps he turoM 

To secret shadows, and in silence mournM. 

The hero, looking on the left, espied 

A lofty tow'r, and strong on ev'ry side 

With treble walls, which Phlegethon surrounds, 

Whose fiery flood the burning empire bounds: 

And, press'd betwixt the rocks, the bellowing noise 

resounds. 
Wide is the fronting gate, and rais'd on high 
With adamantine columns, threats the sky. 
Vain is the force of man, and heav'n's as vain, 
To crush the pillars which the pile sustain. 
Sublime on these, a tow'r of steel is rear'd ; 
And dire Tisiphone there keeps the ward, 
Girt in her sanguine gown, by night and day, 
Observant of the souls that pass the downward way. 
From hence are heard the gioans of ghosts, the paint 
Of sounding lashes and of dragging chains. 
The Trojan stood astonished at their cries, 
And ask'd his guide, from whence those yells arise 
And what the crimes, and what the tortures were, 
And loud laments that rent the liquid air. 
She thus replied : " The chaste and holy race 
Are all forbidden this polluted place. 
But Hecat, when she gave to rule the woods, 
«'hen led me trembling thro' these dire abodes, 
*\nd taught the tortures of th' avenging gods. 



5b ALNEIS. 

These are the realms of unrelenting Fate; 

And awful Rhadamanthus rules the state. 

He hears and judges each committed crime ; 

Inquires into the manner, place, and time. 

The conscious wretch must all his acts reveal, 

(Loth to confess, unable to conceal) 

From the first moment of his vital breath, 

To his last hour of unrepenting death. 

Straight o'er the guilty ghost, the Fury shakes 

The sounding whip, and brandishes her snakes. 

And the pale sinner, with her sisters, takes. 

Then of itself, unfolds the eternal door: 

With dreadful sounds, the brazen hinges roar. 

You see, before the gate, what stalking ghost 

Commands the guard, what sentries keep the post. 

More formidable Hydra stands within, 

Whose jaws with iron teeth severely grin. 

The gaping gulf low to the centre lies, 

And twice as deep as earth is distant from the skies. 

The rivals of the gods, the Titan race, 

Here, sing'd with lightning, roll within th' unfathom'd 

space. 
Here lie th' Aloeun twins, (I saw them both) 
Enormous bodies of gigantic growth, 
Who dar'd in fight the Thund'rer to defy, 
Affect his heaven, and force him from the sky. 
Salmoneus, suffering cruel pains, I found, 
For emulating Jove ; the rattling sound 
Of mimic thunder, and the glittering blaze 
Of pointed lightnings, and their forky rays. 
Through Elis, and the Grecian towns he flew: 
The audacious wretch four fiery coursers drew: 
He wav'd a torch aloft, and, madly vain, 
Sought godlike worship from a servile train. 
Ambitious fool ! with horny hoofs to pass 
O'er hollow arches of resounding brass, 
To rival thunder in its rapid course, 
knd imitate inimitable force ! 



^NEIS. 5 

But. lie, the king of heav'n, obscure on high, 

Bar'd his red arm, and launching from the sky 

His writhen bolt, not shaking empty smoke, 

Down to the deep abyss the flaming felon struck. 

Where Tityus was to see, who took his birth 

From heav'n, his nursing from the foodful earth. 

Here his gigantic limbs, with large embrace, 

(nfold nine acres of infernal space. 

A rav'nous vulture, in his open'd side, 

Her crooked beak and cruel talons tried ; 

Still for the growing liver digg'd his breast: 

The growing liver still supplied the feast; 

Still are his entrails fruitful to their pains: 

TV immortal hunger lasts, th' immortal food remains. 

Ixion and Pirithous I could name, 

And more Thessalian chiefs of mighty fame. 

High o'er their heads a mould'ring rock is placed, 

That promises a fall, and shakes at ev'ry blast. 

They lie below on golden beds displayed ; 

And genial feasts, with regal pomp are made. 

The queen of Furies by their side is set, 

And snatches from their mouths th' untasted meat, 

Which if ;hey touch, her hissing snakes she rears, 

Tossing her torch and thund'ring in their ears. 

Then they, who brothers' better claim disown, 

Expel their parents, and usurp the throne ; 

Defraud their clients, and, to lucre sold, 

Sit brooding on unprofitable gold — 

Who dare not give, and e'en refuse to lend, 

To their poor kindred, or a wanting friend — 

Vast is the throng of these ; nor less the train 

Of lustful youths, for foul adult'ry slain — 

Hosts of deserters, who their honour sold, 

And basely broke their faith for bribes of gold. 

All these within the dungeon's depth remain, 

Despairing pardon, aud expecting pain. 

Ask not what pains ; nor further seek to know 

Their process, or the forms of law below : 



58 JENEIS. 

Some roll a mighty stone ; some, lairl along, 

And bound with burning wires, on spokes of wheels 

are hung. 
Unhappy Theseus, doom'd for ever there, 
Is fix'd by Fate on his eternal chair: 
And wretched Phlegyas warns the world with cries, 
(Could warning make the world more just or wise) 
* Learn righteousness, and dread th' avenging deities.' 
To tyrants, others have their countries soid, 
Imposing foreign lords, for foreign gold : 
Some have old laws repeal'd, new statutes made, 
Not as the people pleas'd, but as they paid. 
With incest some their daughter's bed profan'd. 
All dar'd th' worst of ills, and, what they dar'd, attained. 
Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, 
And throats of brass, inspir'd with iron lungs, 
I could not half those horrid crimes repeat, 
Nor half the punishments those crimes have met. 
But let us haste, our voyage to pursue: 
The walls of Pluto's palace are in view, 
The gate, and iron arch above : — it stands — 
And anvils labour'd by the Cyclops' hands. 
Before our farther way the Fates allow, 
Here must we fix on high the golden bough." 
She said : and through the gloomy shades they past, 
And chose the middle path. — Arriv'd at last, 
The prince, with living water, sprinkled o'er 
His limbs and body, then approach'd the door, 
Possess'd the porch, and on the front above 
He fix'd the fatal bough, requir'd by Pluto's love. 
These holy rites perform'd, they took their way, 
Where long extended plains of pleasure lay. 
The verdant fields with those of heav'n may vie, 
With ether vested, and a purple sky — 
The blissful seats of happy souls below : 
Stars of their own, and their own suns, they know. 
Their airy limbs in sports they exercise, 
And, on the green, contend the wrestler's prize. 



iENEIS. 59 

Some, in heroic verse, divinely sing: 
Others in artful measures lead the ring. 
The Thracian bard, s jrrounded by the rest, 
There stands conspicuous in nis flowing vest. 
His flying fingers, and harmonious quill, 
Strike seven distinguish'd notes, and seven at once they 

fill 
Here found they Teucer's old heroic race, 
Born, better umes,and happier years to grace, 
Assaracus and Ilus here enjoy 
Perpetual fame, with him who founded Troy. 
The » Mef beheld their chariots from afar, 
Their smningarms and coursers train'd to war. 
Their lances fixed in earth — their steeds around, 
Free from their harness, graze the flowery ground. 
The love of horses which they had, alive, 
And care of chariots after death, survive. 
Some cheerful souls were feasting on the plain ; 
Some did the song, and some the choir maintain, 
Beneath a laurel shade, where mighty Po 
Mounts up to woods above, and hides his head below. 
Here patriots live, who, for their country's good, 
In fighting fields, were prodigal of blood : 
Priests of unblemished lives here make abode, 
And poets worthy their inspiring god ; 
And searching wits, of more mechanic parts, 
Who grac'd their age with new invented arts ; 
Those who to worth, their bounty did extend, 
And those who knew that, bounty to commend. 
The heads of these, with holy fillets bound, 
And all their temples were with garlands crown'd. 

To these the Sibyl thus her speech addressed, 
And first to him surrounded by the rest — 
(Tow'ring his height, and ample was his breast.) 
44 Say, happy souls ! divine Musaeus ! say, 
Where lives Anchises, and where lies our way 
To find the hero, for whose only sake 
IVe sought the dark abodes, and cross'd the bitter lake." 



60 JENE1S. 

To this the sacred poet thus replied: ' 
"In no hx'd place the happy souls reside, 
In groves we live, and lie on mossy beds, 
By crystal streams, that murmur through the meads: 
But pass yon easy hill, and thence descend ; 
The path conducts you to your journey's end." 
Tliis said, he led them up the mountain's brow, 
And shows them all the shining fields below. 
The}' wind the hill, and through the blissful mea- 
dows go. 
But old Anchises, in a flow'ry vale, 
fteview'd his muster'd race, and took the tale — 
Those happy spirits, which, ordain'd by Fate, 
For future being and new bodies wait — 
With studious thought, observ'd th' illustrious throng 
In Nature's order, as they pass'd along — 
Their names, their fates, their conduct, and their care, 
In peaceful senates, and successful war. 
He, when /Eneas on the plain appears, 
Meets him with open arms, and falling tears. 
" Welcome " he said, " the gods' undoubted race! 

long expected to my clear embrace ; 

Once more, 'tis giv'n me to behold your face ! 

The Jove and pious duly which you pay, 

Have pass'd the perils of so hard a way. 

'Tis true, computing times, I now believ'd 

The happy day approach'd ; nor are my hopes deceiv'd. 

What length of lands, what oceans have you pass'd. 

W 7 hat storms sustain'd, and on what shores been cast, I 

How have I fear'd your fate, but fear'd it most, 

When love assail'd you on the Libyan coast." 

To this, the filial duty thus replies: 

" Your sacred ghost, before my sleeping eyes, 

Appear'd, and often urg'd this painful enterprise. 

A Iter long tossing on the Tyrrhene sea, 

My navy rides at anchor in the bay. 

1 ut reach your hand, oh parent shade! nor shun 
'i he dear embraces of your longing son ! " 



MNE1S. 61 

He said ; and falling tears his face bedew: 

Then thrice, around his neck, his arms he threw ; 

And thrice the flitting shadow slipp'd away, 

Like winds, or empty dreams that fly the day. 

Now, in a secret vale, the Trojan sees 

A sep'rate grove through which a gentle breeze 

Plays with a passing breath, and whispers through the 

trees : 
And, just before the confines of the wood, 
The gliding Lethe leads her silent flood. 
About the boughs an airy nation flew, 
Thick as the humming bees, that hunt the golden dew. 
In summer's heat ; on tops of Lilies feed, 
And creep within their bells, to suck the balmy seed : 
The winged army roams the field around ; 
The rivers and the rocks remurmur to the sound 
JEneas wond'ring stood, then ask'd the cause, 
Which to the stream the crowding people draws. 
Then thus the sire : " The souls that throng the flood 
Are those, to whom by Fate, are other bodies ow'd : 
In Lethe's lake, they long oblivion taste, 
Of future life secure, forgetful of the past. 
Long has my soul desir'd this time and place, 
To set before your sight your glorious race, 
That this presaging joy may fire your mind, 
To seek the shores by destiny design'd." — 
" O father! can it be, that souls sublime 
Return to visit our terrestrial clime, 
And that the gen'rous mind, released by death, 
Can covet lazy limbs, and mortal breath ?" 
Anchises then, ir. order, thus begun 
To clear those wonders to his godlike son : 
" Know, first, that heav'n, and earth's compacted frame, 
And flowing waters, and the starry flame, 
And both the radiant lights, one common soul 
Inspires and feeds — and animates the whole. 
This active mind, infus'd through ail the space, 
Unites and mingles with the mighty mass. 



62 £NEIS. 

Hence men and beasts the breath of life obtain, 

And birds of air, and monsters of the main. 

TV ethereal vigour is in all the same ; 

And ev'ry soul is fill'd with equal flame — 

As much as earthly limbs and gross allay 

Of mortal members, subject to decay, 

Blunt not the beams of heavm and edge of day. 

From this coarse mixture of terrestrial parts, 

Desire and fear by turns possess their hearts, 

And grief, and joy: nor can the grov'ling mind, 

In the dark dungeon of the limbs connn'd, 

Assert the native skies, or own its heav'nly kind: 

Nor death itself can wholly wash their stains : 

But long-contracted filth e'en in the soul remains. 

The relics of invet'rate vice they wear ; 

And spots of sin obscene in ev'ry face appear. 

For this are various penances enjoin'd ; 

And some are hung to bleach upon the wind, 

Some plung'd in waters, others purg'd in fires, 

Till all the dregs are drain'd, and all the rust expires. 

All have their manes, and those manes bear: 

The few, so cleans'd, to these abodes repair, 

And breathe in ample fields, the soft Elysian air. 

Then are they happy, when by length of time 

The scurf is worn away of each committed crime; 

No speck is left of their habitual stains ; 

But the pure ether of the soul remains. 

But, when a thousand rolling years are past, 

(So long their punishments and penance last) 

Whole droves of minds are, by uie driving god, 

CompelPd to drink the deep Lethean flood, 

In large forgetful draughts, to steep the cares 

Of their past labours and their irksome years, 

That, unrememb'ring of its former pain, 

The soul may suffer mortal flesh again." 

Thus having said, the father-spirit leads 

The priestess and his son through swarms of shades, 

Ana takes a rising ground, from thence to see 

The long procession of his progeny. 



JENEIS. 63 

* Survey (pursu'd the sire) this airy throng, 

As, offer'd to the view, they pass along. 

These are tfT Italian names, which Fate will join 

With ours, and graft' upon the Trojan line. 

Observe the youth who first appears in sight, 

And holds the nearest station to the light, 

Already seems to snuff the vital air, 

And leans just forward on a shining spear: 

Siivius is he, thy last begotten race, 

But first in order sent, to fill thy place — 

A,n Alban name, but mixM with Dardan blood : 

'$orn in the covert of a shady wood, 

Him fair Lavinia, thy surviving wife, 

Shall breed in groves, to lead a solitary life. 

In Alba he shall fix his royal seat, 

And, born a king, a race of kings beget ; — * 

Then Procas, honour of the Trojan name, 

Capys, and Numitor, of endless fame. 

A second Siivius after these appears — 

Siivius iEneas, for thy name he bears — 

Fur arms and justice equally renown'd ; 

Who, late restor'd, in Alba shall be crownVl. 

How great they look ! how vigorously they wield 

Their weighty lances, and sustain the shield ! 

But they, who crown'd with oaken wreaths appear, 

Shall Gabian walls and strong Fidaene rear; 

Momentum, Bola, with Poinetia, found ; 

And raise Collation tow'rs on rocky ground. 

All these shall then be towns of mighty fame, 

Though now they lie obscure, and lands without 

name. 
See Romulus the great, born to restore 
The crown that once his injured grandsire wore. 
This prince a priestess of our blood shall bear; 
And like his sire in arms he shall appear. 
Two rising crests his royal head adorn : 
Born from a god, himself to godhead born 



64 1 £NEIS. 

His sire already signs him for the skies, 

And marks his seat amidst the deities. 

Auspicious chief! thy race, in times to come, 

Shall spread the conquests of imperial Rome — 

Home whose ascending tow'rs shall heav'n invade, 

Involving earth and heav'n into her shade ; 

High as the mother of the gods in place, 

And proud, like her, of an immortal race, 

Then, when in pomp she makes the Phrygian round, 

With golden turrets on her temples crown'd : 

A hundred gods her sweeping train supply, 

Her offspring all ; and all command the sky. 

Now fix your sight, and stand intent, to see 

Your Roman race, and Julian progeny. 

There mighty Caesar waits his vital hour, 

Impatient for the world, and grasps his promised pow'r. 

But next behold the youth of form divine — 

Caesar himself, exalted in his line — 

Augustus, promis'd oft, and long foretold, 

Sent to the realm that Saturn rul'd of old ; 

Born to restore a better age of gold. 

Afric and India shall his pow'r obey ; 

He shall extend his propagated sway 

Beyond the solar year, without the starry way. 

Where Atlas turns the rolling heav'ns around, 

And his broad shoulders with their lights are crown'd. 

At his foreseen approach, already quake 

The Caspian kingdoms and Ma^otian lake. 

Their seers behold the tempest from afar ; 

And threatening oracles denounce the war. 

Nile hears him knocking at his sevenfold gates, 

And seeks his hidden spring, and fears his nephew'; 

fates. 
Nor Hercules more lands or labours knew, 
Not though the brazen -footed hind he slew, 
Freed Erymanthus from the foaming boar, 
And dipp'd his arrows in Lernscan gore ; 



JENF.IS. 65 

Nor Bacchus, turning from his Indian war, 
By tigers drawn triumphant in his car, 
From Nysa's top descending on the plains, 
With curling vines around his purple reins. 
And doubt we yet through dangers to pursue 
The paths of honour, and a crown in view ?- 
But what's the man, who from afar appears, 
His head with olive crown'd, his hand a censer bears ? 
His hoary beard and holy vestments bring 
His lost idea back. I know the Roman king. 
He shall to peaceful Rome new laws ordain, 
CalPd from his mean abode, a sceptre to sustain. 
Him Tullus next in dignity succeeds, 
An active prince, and prone to martial deeds 
He shall his troops for fighting fields prepare, 
Disus'd to toils and triumphs of the war. 
By dint of sword, his crown he shall increase, 
And scour his armour from the rust of peace. 
Whom Ancus follows with a fawning air, 
But vain within, and proudly popular. 
Next view the Tarquin kings, th* avenging sw T ord 
Of Brutus, justly drawn, and Rome restor'd. 
He first renews the rods and axe severe, 
And gives the consuls royal robes to wear. 
His sons, who seek the tyrant to sustain, 
And long for arbitrary lords again, 
With ignominy scourg'd in open sight, 
He dooms to death deserv'd, asserting public right. 
Unhappy man ! to break the pious lav/s 
Of nature, pleading in his children's cause ! 
Howe'er the doubtful fact is understood, 
'Tis love of honour, and his country's good 
The consui, not the father, sheds the blood. 
Behold Tarauatus the same track pursue $ 
And next tne two devoted Decii view — 
The Drusian hne, Camillus loaded home 
With standards well redeem'd, and foreign foef 
come. 

VOL. II. 5 



66 JKNEIS. 

The pair you see, in equal armour shine, 

Now, friends below, in close embraces join : 

But, when they leave the shady realms of night, 

And, cloth'd in bodies, breathe your upper light, 

With mortal hate each other shall pursue : 

What wars, what wounds, what slaughter, shall ensua 

From Alpine heights the father first descends; 

His daughter's husband in the plain attends: 

His daughter's husband arms his eastern friends. 

Embrace again my sons ! be foes no more ; 

Nor stain your country with her children's gore ! \ 

And thou, the first, lay down thy lawless claim, 

Thou, of my blood, who bear'st the Julian name ! 

Another comes, who shall in triumph ride, 

And to the Capitol his cnariot guide, 

From conquer' d Corinth, rich with Grecian spoils* 

And yet another, fam'd for warlike toils, 

On Argos shall impose the Roman laws, 

And on the Greeks, revenge the Trojan cause ; 

Shall drag in chains their Achillean race; 

Shall vindicate his ancestors' disgrace, 

And Pallas for her violated place. 

Great Cato here, for gravity renown'd, 

And conq'ring Cossus goes with laurels crown'd. 

Who can omit the Gracchi ? who declare 

The Scipio's worth, those thunderbolts of war, 

The double bane of Carthage ? Who can see, ' 

Without esteem for virtuous poverty, 

Severe Fabricius, or can cease t' admire 

The ploughman consul in his coarse attire? 

Tir'd as I am, my praise the Fabii claim ; 

And thou, great hero, greatest of thy name, 

Ordain'd in war to save the sinking state, 

And, by delays, to put a stop to Fate ! 

Let others better mould the running mass 

Of metals, and inform the breathing brass, 

And soften into flesh, a marble face ; 



^NEIS 67 

Plead better at the bar ; describe the skies, 

A.nd when the stars descend, and when they rise. 

But Rome ! 'tis thine alone, with awful sway, 

To rule mankind, and make the world obey, 

Disposing peace and war, thy own majestic way : 

To tame the proud, the fetter'd slave to free: — 

These are imperial arts and worthy thee." 

He paus'd— and, while with wond'ring eyes they view'd 

The passing spirits, thus his speech renew'd : 

" See great Marcellus ! how, untir'd in toils, 

He moves with manly g^ace, how rich with regal spoils ! 

He, when his country (threaten'd with alarms) 

Requires his courage, and his conq'ring arms, 

Shall more than once the Punic bands affright; 

Shall kill the Gaulish king in single fight; 

Then to the Capitol in triumph move: 

And the third spoils shall grace Feretrian Jove." 

JCneas here beheld, of form divine, 

A godlike youth, in glitt'ring armour shine, 

With great Marcellus keeping equal pace : 

But gloomy were his eyes, dejected was his face. 

He saw, and wond'ring, ask'd his airy guide, 

What and of whence was he, who press'd the hero's 

side ? 
" His son, or one of his illustrious name ? 
How like the former, and almost the same? 
Observe the crowds that compass him around: 
All gaze, and all admire, and raise a shouting sound: 
But hovering mists around his brows are spread ; 
And night with sable shades involves his head." 
" Seek not to know, (the ghost replied with tears.) 
The sorrows of thy sons in future years. 
This youth (the blissful vision of a day) 
Shall just be shown on earth, then snatch'd away. 
The gods too high had rais'd the Roman state, 
Were but their gifts as permanent as great. 
What groans of men shall fill the Martian Field ! 
How fierce a blaze his flaming pile shall yield ! 
What fun'ral pomp shall floating Tyber see. 



68 JENEIS. 

When, rising from his bed, he views the sad solemnity ! 

No youth shall equal hopes of glory give, 

No youth afford so great a cause to grieve. 

The Trojan honour, and the Roman boast, 

Admir'd when living and ador'd when lost! 

Minor of ancient faith in early youth ! 

Undaunted worth, inviolable truth ! 

No foe, unpunish'd, in the lighting field 

Shall dare thee, foot to foot, with sword and shield, 

Much less in arms oppose thy matchless force, 

When thy sharp spurs shall ur^e thy foaming horse. 

Ah ! couldst thou break through Fate's severe decree, 

A new Marcellus shall arise in thee ! 

Full canisters of fragrant lilies bring, 

Mix'd with the purple roses o\ the spring: 

Let me with fun'ral flow'rs his body strow, 

This gift, which parents to their children owe, 

This unavailing gift, at least 1 may bestow !" 

Thus having said, he led the hero round 

The confines of the blest Elysian ground ; 

Which when Anchises to his son had shown, 

And fir'd his mind to mount the prom is' d throne, 

He tells the future wars, ordain'd by Fate \ 

The strength and customs of the Latian state ; 

The prince, and people ; and fore-arms his care 

W T ith rules, to push his fortune, or to bear. 

Two gates the silent house of Sleep adorn ; 
Of polish'd iv'ry this, that of transparent horn : 
True visions through transparent horn arise 
Through polish'd iv'ry pass deluding lies. 
Of various things discoursing as he pass'd, 
Anchises hither bends his steps at last. 
Then, through the gate of iv'ry he dismiss'd 
His valiant offspring, and divining guest. 
Stiaight to the ships iEneas t3ok his way, 
Em bark' d his men, and skimm'd along the sea, 
Still coasting, till he gain'd Caieta's bay. 
At length on oozy ground his galleys moor : 
Their heads are turn'd to sea, their sterns to shore. 



JE N E I S. 



BOOK VII. 



ARGUMENT. 

King Latinus entertains iEneas, and promises him his on'v 
daughter, Lavinia, the heiress of his crown. Turnus, oexng 
in love with her, favoured by her mother, and by Juno and 
Alecto, breaks the treaty which was made, and engages in 
his quarrel Mezentius, Camilla, Messapus, and many other 
of the neighbouring princes ; whose forces, and the name) 
ol their commanders are particularly related. 



AND thou, O matron of immortal fame! 
: lere dying, to the shore hast left thy name: 
Caieta still the place is call'd from thee, 
The nurse of great .Eneas' infancy. 
Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains: 
Thy name ('tis all a ghost can have) remains. 

Now, when the prince her fun'ral rites had paid, 
He plough'd the Tyrrhene seas with sails di&play'd. 
From land a gentle breeze arose by night ; 
Serenely shone the stars ■ the moon was bright ; 
And the sea trembled with her silver light. 
Now near the shelves of Circe's shores they run, 
(Circe the rich, the daughter of the sun) 
A dang'rous coast ! — the goddess wastes her da\s 
In joyous songs ; the rocks resound her lays. 
In spinning, or the loom, she spends the night; 
And cedar brands supply her father's light. 



70 jENkis. 

From hence were heard rebellowing to the main, 

The mars of lions that refuse the chain, 

The grunts of bristled boars, and groans of bears, 

And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors' ears 

These from their caverns, at the close of night, 

Fill the sad isle with horror and affright. 

Darkling they mourn their fate, whom Circe's pow'r, 

(That watch'd the moon, and planetary hour) 

With words and wicked herbs, from humankind 

Had alter'd, and in bi jtal shapes confin'd. 

Which monsters lest the Trojan's pious host 

Should bear, or toucn upon th' enchanted coast, 

Propitious Neptune steer'd their course by night, 

With rising gales, that sped their happy ihght. 

Supplied with these, they skim the sounding shove, 

And hear the swelling surges vainly roar. 

Now, when the rosy morn began to rise, 

And wav'd her saffron streamer through the skies, 

When Thetis blush'd in purple, not her own, 

And from her face the breathing winds were blown, 

A sudden silence sate upon the sea, 

A ^d sweeping oars, with struggling, urge their way. 

The Trojan, from the main, beheld a wood, 
V hich, thick with shades, and a brown horror stood 
Betwixt the trees, the Tyber took his course, 
With whirlpools dimpled; and with downward force 
That drove the sand along, he took his way, 
And roll'd his yellow billows to the sea. 
About him, and above, and round the wood, 
The birds that haunt the borders of his flood, 
That bath'd within, or bask'd upon his side, 
To tuneful songs their narrow throats applied. 
The captain gives command : the joyful train 
Glide through the gloomy shade, and ,eave the main. 

Now, Erato ! thy poet's mind inspire, 
And till his soul with thy celestial fire, 
delate what Latium was; her ancient kings: 
declare the past and present state of liiings, 



£KE2S. 71 

When first the Trojan fleet Ausonia sought, 
Ann 1 how the rivals lov'd, and how they fought. 
These are my theme, and how the w r ar began, 
And how concluded by the godlike man: 
For I shall sing of battles, blood, and mge, 
Which princes and their people did engage ; 
And haughty souls, that, mov'd with mutual hate, 
In fighting fields pursu'd and found their fate ; 
That rous'd the Tyrrhene realm with loud alarms. 
And peaceful Italy involved in arms. 
A larger scene of action is display 'd ; 
And, rising hence, a greater work is weigh' d. 

Latin us, old and mild, had long possess'd 
The Latian sceptre,' and his people bless'd; 
His father Faunus: a Laurentian dame 
His mother ; fair Marica was her name. 
But Faunus came from Picus: Picus drew 
His birth from Saturn, if records be true. 
Thus king Latmus, in the third degree, 
Had Saturn author of his family.- 
But this old peaceful prince, as heav'n decreed, 
Was bless'd with no male issue to succeed : 
His sons in blooming youth were snatch'd by fate 
One only daughter heir'd the royal state. 
Fir'd with her love, and with ambition led, 
The neighb'ring princes court her nuptial bed. 
Among the crowd, but far above the rest, 
Young Turnus to the beauteous maid address'd. 
Turnus, for high descent and graceful mien, 
Was first, and favour'd by the Latian queen: 
W T ith him she strove to join Lavinia's hand : 
But dire portents the purpos'd match withstand. 

Deep in the palace, of long growth, there stood 
A laurel's trunk, a venerable wood ; 
Where rites divine were paid ; whose holy hair 
W r as kept and cut with superstitious care. 
This plant, Latinus, when his own town he wall'd, 
Then found, and from the tree Laurenttum call'd : 



72 JENEIS. 

And last, in honour of his new abode, 

He vow'd the laurel to the laurel's god. 

It happenM once, (a boding prodigy !) 

A swarm of bees, that cut the liquid sky, 

(Unknown from whence they took their airy flight) 

Upon the topmost branch in clouds alight ; 

There, with their clasping feet, together clung, 

And a long cluster from the laurel hung. 

An ancient augur prophesied from hence : 

" Behold on Latian shores a foreign prince ! 

From the same parts of heaven his navy stands, 

To the same parts on earth : his army lands; 

The town he conquers, and the tow'r commands." 

Yet more, when fair Lavinia fed the fire 

Before die gods, and stood beside her sire, 

(Strange to relate !) the flames, involv'd in smoke 

Of incense, from the sacred altar broke, 

Caught her dishevell'd hair, and rich attire: 

Her crown and jewels crackled in the fire: 

From thence the fuming trail began to spread, 

And lambent glories danc'd about her head. 

This new portent the seer with wonder views, 

Then pausing, thus his prophecy renews: 

" The nymph, who scatters flaming fires around, 

Shall shine with honour — shall herself be crown'd ; 

But, caus'd by her irrevocable fate, 

War shall the country waste, and change the state." 

Latinus, frighted at this dire ostent, 

For counsel to his father Faunus went, 

And sought the shades renown'd for prophecy, 

Which near Albunea's sulph'rous fountain lie. 

To those the Latian and the Sabine land 

Fly, when distress'd : and thence relief demand. 

The priest on skins of off 'rings takes his ease, 

And nightly visions in his slumber sees: 

A swarm of thin aerial shapes appears, 

And, flutt'ring round his tenuiles, deafs his ears 



73 



These he consults, the future fates to know, 
From powers above, and from the fiends below. 
Here, for the god's advice Latinus flies, 
Off'ring a hundred sheep for sacrifice: 
Their woolly fleeces, as the rites requir'd, 
He laid beneath him, and to rest retir'd. 
No sooner were his eyes in slumber bound, 
When, from above, a more than mortal sound 
Invades his ears; and thus the vision spoke: 
" Seek not, my seed, in Latian bands to yoke 
Our fair Lavinia, nor the gods provoke. 
A foreign son upon the shore descends, 
Whose martial fame from pole to pole extends. 
His race, in arms and arts of peace renown'd, 
Not Latian shall contain, nor Europe bound : 
'Tis theirs what'erthe sun surveys around." 
These answers, in the silent night rtceivM, 
The king himself divulg'd, the land believ'd : 
The fame through all the neighb'rmg nations flew, 
When now the Trojan navy was in view. 

Beneath a shady tree, the hero spread 
His table on the turf, with cakes of bread : 
And, with his chiefs, on forest fruits he fed. 
They sate; and, (not without the god's command 
Their homely fare despatch'd, the hungry band 
Invade their trenches next, and soon devour 
To mend the scanty meal, their cakes of flour. 
Ascanius this observ'd, and smiling said, 
tv See ! we devour the plates on which we fed." 
The speech had omen, that the Trojan race 
Should find repose, and this the time and place. 
/Eneas took the word, and thus replies: — 
(Confessing fate, with wonder in his eyes :) 
H All hail, O earth ! all hail, my household gods ! 
Behold the destin'd place of your abodes! 
For thus Anchises prophesied of old, 
And this our fatal place of rest foretold : 



74 a:\Eis. 

* When, on a foreign shore, instead of meat, 

By famine forc'd, your trenchers you shall eat, 

Then ease your weary Trojans will attend, 

And the long labours of your voyage end. 

Remember on that happy coast to build : 

And with a trench enclose the fruitful field.' 

This was that famine, this the faial place, 

Which ends the wand'ring of our exil'd race. 

Then, on to-morrow's dawn, your care employ 

To search the land, and where the cities lie, 

And what the men ; but give this day to joy. 

Nor pour to Jove ; and, after Jove is blest, 

Call great Anchisesto the genial feast: 

Crown high the goblets with a cheerful draught. 

Enjoy the present hour ; adjourn the future thought." 

Thus having said, the hero bound his brows 
With leafy branches, then perform Vi his vows; 
Adorning first the genius of the place, 
Then Earth, the mother of the heav'nly race, 
The nymphs, and native godheads yet unknown, 
And Night, and all the stars that gild her sable throne, 
And ancient Cybel, and Idsean Jove, 
And last his sire below, and mother-queen above. 

Then heaven's high monarch thunder'd thrice aloud ; 
And thrice he shook aloft a golden cloud. 
Soon through the joyful camp a rumour flew, 
The time was come their city to renew. 
Then ev'ry brow with cheerful green is crown'd ; 
The feasts are doubled, and the bowls go round. 

When next the rosy morn d^clos'd the day, 
The scouts to sev'ral parts di-jde their way, 
To learn their natives' names, their towns explore, 
The coast, and tendings of the crooked shore: 
Here Tyber flows, and here Numicus stands ; 
Here warlike Latins hold the happy lands. 

The pious chief who sought by peaceful ways 
To found his empire, and his town to raise, 



A hundred youths from all his train selects, 

And to the Latian court their course directs. 

(The spacious palace where their prince resides, 

And all their heads with wreaths of olive hides. 

To go commission'd to require a peace, 

And carry presents to procure access. 

Thus while they speed their pace, the prince designs 

The new-elected seat, and draws the lines. 

The Trojans round the place a rampire cast, 

And palisades about the trenches plac'd. 

Meantime the tram, proceeding on their way, 
From far the town and lofty tow'rs survey ; 
At length approach the walls. Without the gate, 
They see the hoys and Latian youth debate 
The martial prizes on the dusty plain ; 
Some drive the cars, and some the coursers rein; 
Some bend the stubborn bow for victory ; 
And some with darts their active sinews try. 
A posting messenger, despatch'd from hence, 
Of this fair troop advis'd their aged prince, 
That foreign men, of mighty stature, came ; 
Uncouth their habit, and unknown their name. 
The king ordains their entrance, and ascends 
His regal seat, surrounded by his friends, 
The palace built by Picus, vast and proud, 
Supported by a hundred pillars stood, 
And round encompass'd with a rising wood 
The pile o'eriook'd the town, and drew the sight, 
Surpris'd at once with rev'rence and delight. 
There kings receiv'd the marks of sov'reign pow'r: 
In state the monarchs march'd ; the lictors bore 
Their awful axes and the rods before. 
Here the tribunal stood, the house of pray'r; 
And here the sacred senators repair ; 
All at large tables, in long order set, 
A ram their off ring, and a ram their meat. 
Above the portal, carv'd in cedar wood. 
Plac'd in their ranks, their godlike grandsires stood— 



76 .ENEIS. 

Old Saturn, with his crooked scythe, on high; 

And J talus, that led the colony ; 

And ancient Janus, with his double face, 

And bunch of keys, the porter of the place. 

There stood Sabinus, planter of the vines: 

On a short pruning-hook his head reclines, 

And studiously surveys his gen'rous wines; 

Then warlike kings, who for their country fought, 

And honourable wounds from battle brought. 

Around the posts, hung helmets, darts, and spears, 

And captive chariots, axes, shields, and bars, 

And broken beaks of ships, the trophies of their wais. 

Above the rest, as chief of all the band, 

Was Picus plac'd ; a buckler in his hand , 

His other wav'd a long divining wand. 

Girt in his Gabine goun the hero sate, 

Yet could not with his art avoid his fate- 

For Circe long had lov'd the youth in vain, 

Till love, refus'd, converted to disdain : 

Then, mixing powerful herbs, with magic art, 

She chang'd his form, who could not change his heart ; 

Constrained him in a bird, and marie him fly, 

With party-colour'd plumes, a chatt'ring pie. 

In this high temple, on a chair of state, 

The seat of audience, old Latinus sate ; 

Then gave admission to the Trojan train ; 

And thus, with pleasing accents he began: 

" Tell me, ye Trojans — for that name you own ; 

Nor is your course upon our coasts unknown — 

Say what you seek, and whither were you bound ? 

Were you by stress of weather cast aground ? 

(Such dangers of the sea are often seen, 

And oft beiall to miserable men ;) 

Or come your shipping in our ports to lay, 

Spent and disabled in so long a way ? 

Say what you want : the Latians you shall find 

Not forc'd to goodness, but by will inclin'd ; 



.ENEIS. 77 

For since the time of Saturn's holy reign, 

His hospitable customs we retain: 

I .'-ah to mind, (but time the tale has worn) 

Th' Aurunci told, that Dardanus, though born 

On Latian plains, yet sought the Phrygian shore, 

And Samothracia, Samos call'd before. 

From Tuscan Corythum he claim'd his birth: 

But after, when exempt from mortal earth, 

From thence ascended to his kindred skies, 

A god, and, as a god, augments their sacrifice." 

He said. — Ilioneus made this reply: 

O king, of Faunus' royal family! 

Nor wintry winds to Latium forc'd our way, 

Nor did the stars our wand'ring course betray. 

Willing we sought your shores ; and, hither bound, 

The port so long desir'd, at length we found ; 

From our sweet homes and ancient realms expell'd \ 

Great as the greatest that the sun beheld. 

The god began our line, who rules above ; 

And, as our race, our king descends from Jove: 

And hither are we come by his command, 

To crave admission in your happy land. 

How dire a tempest from Mycenae pour'd, 

Our plains, our temples, and our town, devoured ; 

What was the waste of war, what fierce alarms 

Shook Asia's crown with European arms; 

E'en such have heard, if any such there be, 

Whose earth is bounded by the frozen sea ; 

And such as, born beneath the burning sky 

And sultry sun, betwixt the tropics lie, 

From that dire deluge, through the wat'ry waste, 

(Such length of years, such various perils past) 

At lastescap'd, to Latium we repair, 

To beg what you without your want may spare- 

The common water, and the common air ; 

Sheds which ourselves will build, and mean abodes. 

Fit to receive and serve our banish'd gods. 



78 ^NEIS. 

Nor our admission shall your realm disgrace, 
Nor length ol time our gratitude efface — 
Besides what endless honour you shall gain, 
To save and shelter Troy's unhappy train. 
Now, by my sov'reign, and his fate, I swear — 
Renow'd for faith in peace, for force in war — 
Oft our alliance other lands desir'd, 
And what we seek of you, of us required. 
Despise not then, that in our hands we bear 
These holy boughs, and sue with words of pray'r. 
Fate and the gods, by their supreme command, 
Have doomed our ships to seek the Latian land. 
To these abodes, our fleet Apollo sends; 
Here Dardanus was born, and hither tends ; 
Where Tuscan Tyber rolls with rapid force, 
And where Numicus opes his holy source. 
Besides, our prince presents, with his request, 
Some small remains of what his sire possessed. 
This golden charger, snatch'd from burning Troy, 
Anchises did in sacrifice employ: 
This royal robe and this tiara wore 
Old Priam, and this golden sceptre bore, 
In full assemblies, and in solemn games: 
These purple vests were weav'd by Dardan dames.* 1 

Thus while he spoke, Latinus roll'd around 
His eyes, and fix'd awhile upon the ground. 
Intent he seem'd, and anxious in his breast ; 
Not by the sceptre mov'd, or kingly vest, 
But pond'ring future things, of wond'rous weight- 
Succession, empire, and his daughter's fate. 
On these he mus'd within his thoughtful mind ; 
And then revolved what Faunus had divin'd. 
This was the foreign prince, by fate decreed 
To share his sceptre, and Lavinia's bed : 
This was the race that sure portents foreshew 
To sway the world, and land and sea subdue. 
At length he rais'd his cheerful head, and spoke: 
M The pow'rs," said he, " the pow'rs we both invoke, 



JENEIS. 79 

To you, and yours, and mine, propitious be, 

And firm our purpose with our augury ! 

Have what you ask : your presents I receive ; 

Land where and when you please, with ample leave: 

Partake and use my kingdom as your own: 

All shall be yours while I command the crown. 

And, if my wish'd alliance please your king, 

Tell him he should not send the peace, but bring: 

Then let him not a friend's embraces fear: 

The peace is made when I behold him here. 

Besides this answer, tell my royal guest, 

I add to his commands my own request: 

Only one daughter heirs my crown and state, 

Whom not our oracles, nor heav'n, nor fate, 

Nor frequent prodigies, permit to join 

With any native of th' Ausonian line. 

A foreign son-in-law shall come from far, 

(Such is our doom) a chief renown 'd in war, 

Whose race shall bear aloft the Latian name, 

And through the conquer' d world diffuse our fame. 

Himself to be the man the fates require, 

I firmly judge, and, what I judge, desire." 

He said, and then on each bestow'd a steed. 

Three hundred horses, in high stables fed y 

Stood ready, shining all, and smoothly dress'd : 

Of these he chose the fairest and the best, 

To mount the Trojan troop. At his command, 

The steeds caparison'd with purple stand, 

With golden trappings, glorious to behold, 

And champ betwixt their teeth the foaming gold. 

Then to his absent guest the king decreed 

A pair of coursers born of heav'nly breed, 

Who from their nostrils breath'd etherial fire ; 

Whom Circe stole from her celestial sire, 

By substituting mares produced on earth, 

Whose wombs conceiv'd a more than mortal birth. 

These draw the chariot which Latinus sends : 

And the rich present to the prince commends. 



80 jENEis. 

Sublime on stately steeds the Trojans borne, 

To their expecting lord with peace return. 

Hut jealous Juno, from Pachynus' height, 

As she from Argos took her airy flight, 

Beheld, with envious eyes, this hateful sight. 

She saw the Trojan and his joyful train 

Descend upon the shore, desert the main. 

Design a town, and, with unhop'd success, 

Th' ambassadors return with promis'd peace. 

Then, pierc'd with pain, she shook her haughty head, 

Sigh'd from her inward soul, and thus she said : 

" O hated offspring of my Phrygian foes ! 

fates of Troy, which Juno's fates oppose 1 
Could they not fall un pitied on the plain, 
But, slain, revive, and taken, 'scape again ? 
When execrable Troy in ashes lay, 

Through fires and swords and seas they forc'd their 

way. 
Then vanquish'd Juno must in vain contend, 
Her rage disarm'd, her empire at an end ! 
Breathless and tir'd, is all my fury spent? 
Or does my glutted spleen at length relent? 
As if 'twere little from their town to chase, 

1 through the seas pursu'd their exil'd race : 
Engag'd the heav'ns, oppos'd the stormy main : 
But billows roar'd, and tempests rag'd in vain. 
What have my Scylias and my Syrtes done, 
When these they overpass, and those they shun ? 
On Tyber's shores they land, secure of fate, 
Triumphant o'er the storms of Juno's hate ! 
Mars could in mutual blood the Centaurs bathe; 
And Jove himself gave way to Cynthia's wrath, 
Who sent the tusky boar to Calydon ? 

(What great offence had either people done ?) 
But L, the consort of the Thunderer 
Have wag'd a long and unsuccessful war, 
With various arts and arms in vain have toiPd. 
And by a mortal man at length am fbil'd ! 



81 



if native pow'r prevail not, shall J doubt 

To seek for needful succour from without? 

If Jove and heav'n my just desires deny, 

Hell shall the pow'r of heav'n and Jove supply. 

Grant that the Fates have firm'd, by their decree 

The Trojan race to reign in Italy : 

At least I can defer the nuptial day, 

And, with protracted wars, the peace delay: 

With blood the dear alliance shall be bought, 

And both the people near destruction brought. 

So shall the son-in-law and father join, 

With ruin, war, and waste of either line. 

O fatal maid ! thy marriage ;s endow'd 

W r ith Phrygian, Latian, and Rutulian blood ! 

Bellona leads thee to thy lover's hand : 

Another queen brings forth another brand, 

To burn with foreign fires another land ! 

A second Pans, dift'nng but in name, 

Shall tire his country with a second flame." 

Thus having said, she sinks beneath the ground, 
With furious haste, and shoots the Stygian sound, 
To rouse Alecto from th' infernal seat 
Of her dire sisters, and their dark retreat, 
This Fury, fit for her intent, she chose , 
One who delights in wars, and human woes. 
E'en Pluto hates his own mis-shapen race ; 
Her sister Furies fly her hideous face ; 
So frightful are the forms the monster takes, 
So fierce the hissings of her speckled snakes. 
Her Juno finds, and thus inflames her spite; 
" O virgin daughter of eternal Night, 
Give me this once thy labour, to sustain 
My right, and execute my just disdain. 
Let not the Trojans, with a feign'd pretence 
Of proffer' d peace, delude the Latian prince. 
Expel from Italy that odious name, 
And let not Juno suffer in her fame» 

VOL II. G 



V.2 iflfcts. 

'Tis thine 10 ruin realms, o'erturn a slate, 

Letwixt the dearest friends to raise debate, 

Atid kindle kindred blood to mutual hate. 

Thy hand o'er towns the fun'ral torch displays, 

And forms a thousand ills ten thousand ways. 

Now shake, from out thy fruitful breast, the seeds 

Of envy, discord, and of cruel deeds: 

Confound the peace establish'd, and prepare 

Their souls to hatred, and their hands to war." 

Smcar'd as she was with black Gorgonean blood, 

The Fury sprang above the Stygian flood : 

And on her wicker wings, sublime through night, 

She to the Latian palace took her flight : 

There sought the queen's apartment, stood before 

The peaceful threshold, and besieg'd the door. 

Restless Amata lay, her swelling breast 

Fir'd with disdain for Turnus dispossess'd, 

And the new nuptials of the Trojan guest. 

From her black oioody locks the Fury shakes 

Her darling plague, the fav'rite of her snakes ; 

With her full force she threw the pois'nous dart, 

And fix'd it deep within Amata's heart, 

That, thus envenom'd, she might kindle rage, 

And sacrifice to strife her house and husband's age. 

Unseen, unfelt, the fiery serpent skims 

Betwixt her linen and hei naked limbs, 

His baneful breath, inspiring as he glides. 

Now like a chain around her neck he rides, 

Now like a fillet to her head repairs, 

And with his circling volumes folds her hairs. 

At first the silent venom slid with ease, 

And seiz'd her cooler senses by degrees • 

Then, ere th'infected mass was fir'd too fai, 

In plaintive accents she began the war, 

And thus bespoke her husband : " Shall," she said, 

u A \\ and'ring prince enjoy Lavinia's bed ? 

If i attire plead not in a parent's heart, 

Fity my tears, and pity her desert. 



iENEIS. 83 

I know my dearest lord, the time will come, 

You would, in vain reverse your cruel doom, 

The faithless pirate soon will set to sea, 

And bear the royal virgin far away ! 

A guest like him, a Trojan guest before, 

In show of friendship sought the Spartan shore, 

And ravish'd Helen from her husband bore. 

Think on a king's inviolable word ; 

And think on Tumus, her once plighted lord. 

To this false foreigner you give your throne, 

And wrong a friend, a kinsman, and a son. 

Resume your ancient care; and, if the god, 

Your sire, and you, resolve on foreign blood, 

Know all are foreign, in a larger sense, 

Not born your subjects or denv'd from hence, 

Then, if the line of Tumus you retrace, 

He springs from Inacus of Argive mce. " 

But, when she saw her reasons idly spent, 

And could not move him from his fix' d intent, 

She flew to rage ; for now the snake possess'd 

Her vital parts, and poison 1 d all her breast. } 

She raves, she runs with a distracted pace, 

And fills, with horrid howls, the puolic place. 

And, as young striplings whip the top for sport, 

On the smooth pavement of an empty court; 

The wooden engine flies and whirls about, ♦ 

Adrnir'd, with clamours, of the beardless rout ; 

They lash aloud ; each other they provoke, 

And lend their little souls at ev'ry stroke: 

Thus fares the queen ; and thus her fury blows 

Amidst the crowd, and kindles as she goes. 

Not yet content, she strains her malice more, 

And adds new ills to those contrived before: 

She flies the town, and, mixing with the throng 

Of madding matrons, bears the hride along, 

Wand'ring through woods and wilds and devious ways, 

And with these arts the Trojan match delays. 



84 .ENEIS. 

She feign'd the rites of Ba< :chus ; cried aloud, 
And to the buxom god the virgin vow'd. 
" Evoe ! O Bacchus!" thus began the song ; 
And " Evoe!" answer'd all the female throng, 
44 O virgin, worthy thee alone i" she cried ; 
44 O worthy thee alone !" the crew replied. 
44 For thee she feeds her hair, she leads thy dance, 
And with thy winding ivy wreaths her lance." 
Like fury seiz'd the rest: the progress known, 
All seek the mountains, and forsake the town: 
All clad in skins of beasts, the javelin bear, 
Give to the wanton winds their flowing hair; 
And shrieks and shoutings rend the suff 'ring air. 
The queen herself, inspir'd with rage divine, 
Shook high above her head a flaming pine, 
Then roll'd her haggard eyes around the throng, 
And sung, in Turnus' name, the nuptial song: 
44 16 ! ye Latian dames, if any here 
Hold your unhappy queen, Amata, dear; 
If there be here," she said, 4t who dare maintain 
My right, nor think the name of mother vain ; 
Unbind your fillets, loose your flowing hair, 
And orgies and nocturnal rites prepare." 
Amata's breast the Fury thus invades, 
And fires with rage, amid the sylvan shades. 
Then, when she found her venom spread so far, 
The royal house embroiPd in civil war, 
Rais'd on her dusky wings she cleaves the skies, 
And seeks the palace where young Turnus lies. 
His town as fame reports, was built of old 
By Danae, pregnant with almighty gold, 
Who fled her father's rage, and, with a train 
Of following Argives, through the stormy main, 
Driv'n by the southern blasts, was fated here to 
reign. 
'Twas Ardua once: now Ardea's riame it bears; 
Once a fair city, now consum'd with years r 



JENEfS. 86 

Here, in his lofty palace, Turnus lay. 

Betwixt the confines of the night and day, 

Secure in sleep. — The Fury laid aside 

Her looks and limbs, and with new methods tried 

The foulness of the infernal form to hide. 

Propp'd on a staff, she takes a trembling mien; 

Her face is furrow'd, and her front obscene; 

Deep-dinted wrinkles on her cheeks she drav/s; 

Sunk are her eyes, and toothless are her jaws; 

Her hoary hair with holy fillets bound, 

Her temples with an olive wreath are crown'd. 

Old Chalybe who kept the sacred fane 

Of Juno, now she seem'd, and thus began, 

Appearing in a dream to rouse the careless man. 

" Shall Turnus then such endless toils sustain 

In fighting fields, and conquer towns in vain ? 

Win, for a Trojan head to wear the prize, 

Usurp thy crown, enjoy thy victories? 

The bride and sceptre, which thy blood has bought, 

The king transfers; and foreign heirs are sought! 

Go now, deluded man, and seek again 

New toils, new dangers, on the dusty plain ! 

Repel the Tuscan foes ; their city seize ; 

Protect the Latiaus in luxurious ease ! 

This dream all-powerful Juno sends; I bear 

Her mighty mandates : and her words you hear. 

Haste ! arm your Ardeans; issue to the plain ; 

With faith to friend, assault the Trojan train : 

Their thoughtless chiefs; their painted ships that lie 

In Tyber's mouth, with fire and sword destroy. 

The Latian king, unless he shall submit, 

Own his old promise, and his new forget — 

Let him, in arms, the pow'r of Turnus prove, 

And learn to fear whom he disdains to love. 

For such is heaven's command." — The youthful prince 

With «5eoru replied, and made this bold defence: 

" You tell me, mother, what I knew before, 

The Phrygian fleet is landed on the shore. 



86 iENEIS. 

1 neither fear nor will provoke the war: 

My late is Juno's most peculiar care. 

i>ut time has made you dote, and vainly tell 

Of arms irnagin'd in your lonely cell. 

Cjo ! be the temple and the gods your care : 

Permit to men the thought of peace and war. 
These haughty words Alecto's rage provoke ; 

And frighted Turnus trembled as she spoke. 

Her eyes grow stift'en'd, and with sulphur burn ; 

Her hideous looks and hellish tbrm return ; 

Her curling snakes with hissings fill the place, 

And open all the furies of her face: 

Then, darting fire from her malignant eyes, 

She cast him backwards as he strove to r.se, 

And, lingering, sought to frame some new replies. 

High on her head she rears two twisted snakes: 

Her chains she rattles, and her whip she shakes; 
And, churning bloody loam, thus loudly speaks: 

" Behold whom time lias made to dote, and tell 
Of arms irnagin'd in her lonely cell ! 
behold the Fates 1 infernal minister! 

War, death, destruction, in my hand I bear." 
Thus having said, her smould'ring torch, impressed 
With her full force, she plung'd into his breast. 
Aghast he wak'd, and starting- from his bed, 
Cold sweat, in clammy drops, his limbs o'erspread. 
44 Anns! arms !" he cries: " my sword and shield pre- 
pare !" 
He breathes defiance, blood, and mortal war. 
bo, when with crackling flames a caldron fries, 
The bubbling waters from the bottom rise: 
Above the brims they force their fiery way; 
Biaefc vapours climb aloft, and cloud the day. 

The peace polluted thus, a chosen band 
He first commissions to the Latian land, 
In threat'ning embassy ; then rais'd the rest, 
To meet in arms th intruding Trojan guest, 



JENE1S. 87 

To force the foes from th 7 Lavinian shore, 
Ami Italy's endanger'd peace restore. 
Himself alone an equal match he boasts, 
To fight the Phrygian and Ausonian hosts. 
The gods invok'd, the Rutuh prepare 
Their arms, and warn each other to the war. 
His beauty these, and those his blooming age, 
The rest his house and his own tame engage. 

While Turnus urges thus his enterprise, 
The Stygian Fury to the Trojans Hies; 
New frauds invents, and takes a steepy stand, 
Which overlooks the vale with wide command ; 
Where fair Ascanius and his youthful train, 
With horns and hounds, a hunting match ordain, 
And pitch their toils around the shady plain. 
The Fury fires the pack ; they snuff, they vent, 
And leed their hungry nostrils with the scent. 
'Twas of a well-grown stag, whose antlers rise 
High o'er his front, his beams invade the skies. 
From this light cause, th' infernal maid prepares 
The country churls to mischief, hate, and wars. 

The stately beast the two Tyrrhuke bred, 
Snatch'd from his dam, and the tame youngling fed. 
Their father Tvrrheus did his fodder bring, 
Tyrrheus, chief ranger to the Latian king: 
Their sister Silvia cherishVl with her care 
The little wanton, and did wreaths prepare 
To hang his budding horns ; with ribands tied 
His tender neck, ami comb'd his silken hide, 
And bath'd his body. Patient of command 
In time he grew, and growing, us'd to hand, 
He waited at his master's board for food ; 
Then sought his savage kindred in the wood, 
Where grazing ail the day, at night he came 
To his known lodgings, and his country dame. 
This household beast, that us'd the woodland grounds, 
Was view'd at first by the young hero's hounds. 



88 jENEIS. 

As down the stream he swam, to seek retreat 

In the cool waters, and to quench his heat. 

Ascanius, young, and eager of his game, 

Soon bent. Ins bow, uncertain in his aim : 

Bui the dire fiend the fatal arrow guides, 

Which piere'd his bowels through his panting sides. 

The bleeding creature issues from the floods, 

^ossess'd with fear, unri seeks his known abodes, 

} is old familiar hearth, and household gods. 

I !e falls ; he fills the house with heavy groans, 

Implores their pity, and his pain bemoans. 

young Silvia beats her breast, and cries aloud 

For succour from the clownish neighbourhood: 

T'he churls assemble; for the fiend who lay 

in the close woody covert, urg'd their way. 

One with a brand yet burning from the flame, 

ArmM with a knotty club another came ; 

What'er they catch or find, without their care, 

Their fury makes an instrument of war. 

Tyrrheus, the foster-father of the beast, 

Then clench'd a hatchet in his horny fist, 

But held his hand from the descending stroke, 

And left his wedge within the cloven oak, 

To whet their courage, and their rage provoke. 

And now the goddess, exercis'd in ill, 

Who watch'd an hour to work her impious will, 

Ascends the roof, and to her crooked horn, 

Such as was then by Latian shepherds borne, 

Adds all her breath. The rocks and woods around, 

And mountains tremble at th' infernal sound. 

The sacred lake of Trivia from afar, 

The Veiine fountains, and sulphureous Nar. 

Shake at the baleful blast, the signal of the war. 

Young mothers wildly stare, with fear posscss'd, 

And strain their helpless infants to their breast. 

The clowns, a hoist' rous, rude, ungovern'd crew, 
With imious haste to the loud summons flew. 



The pow'rs of Troy, then issuing on the plain, 

With fresh recruits tneir youthful chief sustain: 

Not theirs a raw and unexperienced train, 

But a firm body of embattled men. 

At first, while fortune favour' d neither side, 

The fight with clubs and burning brands was tried: 

But now, both parties reinforc'd, the fields 

Are bright with flaming swords and brazen shields. 

A shining harvest either host displays, 

And shoots against the sun with equal rays. 

Thus when a black-brow'd gust begins to rise, 
White foam at first on the curl'd ocean fries ; 
Then roars the main, the billows mount the skies ; 
Till, by the fury of the storm full blown, 
The muddy bottom o'er the clouds is thrown, 

First Almon falls, old Tyrrheus' eldest care, 
Pierc'd with an arrow from the distant war: 
Fix'd in his throat the flying weapon stood, 
And stopp'd his breath, and drank his vital blood. 
Huge heaps of slain around the body rise: 
Among the rest, the rich Galesus lies ; 
A good old man, while peace he preach'd in vain, 
Amidst the madness of th 1 unruly train : 
Five herds, five bleating flocks, his pastures fill'd ; 
His lands a hundred yoke of oxen till'd. 
Thus, while in equal scales their fortune stood, 
The Fury bath'd them in each other's blood ; 
Then, having fix'd the fight, exuiting flies, 
And bears fulfill'd her promise to the skies. 
To Juno thus she speaks: " Behold ! 'tis done ; 
The blood already drawn, the war begun ; 
The discord is complete ; nor can they cease 
The dire debate, nor you command the peace, 
Now, since the Latian and the Trojan brood 
Have tasted vengeance, and the sweets of blood ; 
Speak, and my power shall add this office more: 
The neighb'ring nations of th' Ausonian shore 



90 :ENEIS. 

Shall hear the dreadful rumour, from afar, 
Of arin'd invasion, and embrace the war." 
Then Juno thus: " The grateful work is done, 
The seeds of discord sow'd, the war begun : 
Frauds, fears, and fury, have possessed the state, 
And fix'd the causes of a lasting hate. 
A bloody Hymen shall th* alliance join 
Betwixt the Trojan and Ausonian line : 
But thou with speed to night and hell repair; 
For not the gods, nor angry Jove, will bear 
Thy lawless wand'ring walks in upper air. 
Leave what remains to me." Satumia said : 
The sullen fiend her sounding wings displayed, 
Unwilling left the light, and sought the nether shade. 

In midst of Italy, well known to fame, 
There lies a lake (Amsanctus is the name) 
Below the lofty mounts: on either side 
Thick forests the forbidden entrance hide. 
Full in the centre of the sacred wood, 
An arm arises of the Stygian flood, 
Which, breaking from beneath with bellowing sound, 
Whirls the black waves and rattling stones around. 
Here Pluto pants for breath from out his cell, 
And opens wide the grinning jaws of hell. 
To this infernal lake the Fury flies ; 
Here hides her hated head, and frees the lab'ring skies. 
Saturnian Juno now with double care, 
Attends the fatal process of the war. 
The clowns, return'd from battle, bear the slain, 
Implore the gods, and to their king complain. 
The corpse of Almon, and the rest are shown : 
Shrieks, clamours, murmurs, fill the frighted town. 
Ambitious Turnus in the press appears, 
And, aggravating crimes, augments their fears ; 
Proclaims his private injuries aloud, 
A solemn promise made, and disavowed ; 
A foreign son is sought, and a mix'd mongrel brood. 



JENEIS. 91 

Then they, whose mothers, frantic with their fear, 
In woods and wilds the flags of Bacchus bear, 
And lead his dances with dishevelPd hair, 
Increase the clamour, and the war demand, 
(Such was Amata's int'rest in the land) 
Against the public sanctions of the peace, 
Against all omens of their ill success. 
With fates averse, the rout in arms resort, 
To force their monarch, and insult the court. 
But, like a rock unmov'd, a rock that braves 
The raging tempest and the rising waves — 
Propp d on himself he stands: his solid sides 
Wash off the seaweeds, and the sounding tides- 
So stood the pious prince unmov'd, and long 
Sustain'd the madness of the noisy throng. 
But, when he found that Juno's pow'r prevailed, 
And all the methods of cool council faiPd, 
He calls the gods to witness their offence, 
Disclaims the war, asserts his innocence. 
" Hurried by fate," he cries, " and borne before 
A furious wind, we leave the faithful shore ! 

more than madmen ! you yourselves shall beai 
The guilt of blood and sacrilegious war: 
Thou, Turnus, shalt atone it by thy fate, 

And pray to heavm for peace, but pray too late ; 
For me, my stormy voyage at an end, 

1 to the port of death securely tend. 

The fun'ral pomp which to your kings you pay, 
Is all I want, and all you take away." 
He said no more, but, in his walls confiu'd, 
Shut out the woes which he too well divin'd ; 
Nor with the rising storm would vainly strive, 
But left the helm, and let the vessel drive. 

A solemn custom was observ'd of old, 
Which Latium held, and now the Romans hold, 
1 leir standard when in fighting fields they rear 
Against the fierce Hyrcanians,or declare 
Dte Scythian, Indian, or Arabian war — 



9 U 2 jfcNEiS. 

Oi from the boasting Partbians would regain 

Their eagles lost, in Game's bloody plain. 

Two gales of steel (the name of Mars they bear, 

And still are worshipp'd with religious fear) 

Before his temple stand, the dire abode, 

And the fear'd issues of the furious god, 

Are fenc'd with brazen bolts; without the gates, 

The wary gaurdian Janus doubly waits. 

Then, when the sacred senate votes the wars, 

The Roman consul their decree declares, 

And in'his robes the sounding gates unbars. 

The youth in military shouts arise, 

And the loud trumpets break the yielding skies. 

These rites, of old by sov'reign princes us'd, 

Were the king's office: but the king refus'd, 

Deaf to their cries, nor would the gates unbar 

Of sacred peace, or loose tn 1 imprisoned war ; 

But hid his head, and safe from loud alarms, 

Abhorr'd the wicked ministry of arms. 

Then heaven's imperious queen shot down from high; 

At her approach the brazen hinges fly ; 

The gates are forc'd, and ev'ry falling bar; 

And, like a tempe<=t, issues out the war. 

The peaceful cities of th' Ausonian shore, 

Lull'd in their ease, and undisturb'd before, 

Are all on fire ; and some, with studious care, 

Their restive steeds in sandy plains prepare ; 

Some their soft limbs in painful marches try, 

And war is all their wish, and arms their general cry. 

Part scour their rusty shields with seam ; and part __ 

New grind the blunted axe, and point the dart: 

With joy they view the waving ensigns fly, 

And hear the trumpets clangour pierce the sky. 

Five cities forge theii arms — th' Atinian pow'rs, 

Antemna?., Tibei with her lofty towers, 

Ardea the proud, the Crusiumerian town. 

All these of old were places of renown. 



.ENEIS. 93 

Some hammer nennets for the fighting field ; 
Some twine young sallows to support the shield ; 
The corslet some, and some the cuishes mould, J 
With silver plated, and with ductile gold. 
The rustic honours of the scytke and share 
Give place to sv/ords and plumes, the pride of war. 
Old falchions are new temper'd in the fires: 
The sounding trumpet ev'ry soul inspires. 
The word is giv'n ; with eager speed they lace 
The shining head-piece, and the shield embrace. 
The neighing steeds are to the chariots tied ; 
The trusty weapon sits on ev'ry side. 

And now the mighty labour is begun, 
Ye Muses open all your Helicon. 
Sing you the chiefs that sway'd th' Ausonian land, 
Their arms, and armies under their command \ 
What warriors in our ancient clime were bred ; 
What soldiers followed, and what heroes led. 
For well you know, and can record alone, 
What fame to future times conveys but darkly down. 

Mezentius first appear'd upon the plain : 
Scorn sate upon his brows, and sour disdain 
Defying earth and heav'n. Etruria lost, 
Ke brings to Turnus' aid his baffled host. 
The charming Lausus, full of youthful fire, 
Bode in the ranks, and next his sullen sire ; 
To Turnus only second in the grace 
Of manly mien, and features of the face. 
A skilful horseman, and a huntsman bred, 
W 7 ith fates averse a thousand men he led : 
His sire unworthy of so brave a son ; 
Himself well worthy of a happier throne. 

Next Aventinua drives his chariot round 
The Latian plains, with palms and laurels crown'd 
Proud of his steeds, he smokes along the field ; 
His father's hydra fills his ample shield : 
A hundred serpents hiss about the brims; 
The son of Hercules he justly seems, 
Bv his broad shoulders and gigantic limbs— 



94 JENK1S. 

Of heav'nly part, and part of earthly blood, 
A. mortal woman mixing with a god. 
For strong Alcides, after he had slain 
The triple Geryon, drove from conquer'd Spain 
His captive herds; and, thence in triumph led, 
On Tuscan Tyber's flow'ry banks they fed. 
Then, on mount Aventine, the son of Jove 
The priestess Rhea found, and forc'd to love. 

For aims, his men long piles and javelins bore ; 
And poles with pointed steel their foes in battle gore. 
Like Hercules himself, his son appears 
In savage pomp: a lion's hide he wears; 
About his shoulders hangs the shaggy skin: 
The teeth and gaping jaws severely grin. 
Thus, like the god, his father, homely drest, 
He strides into the hall, a horrid guest. 

Then two twin-brothers from fair Tibur came, 
(Whicn from their brother Tiburs took the name) 
Fierce Coras and Catillus, void of fear : 
Arm'd Argive horse they lead, and in the front appeal, 
Like cloud-born Centaurs, from the mountain's height 
With rapid course descending to the fight ; 
They rush along, the rattling woods give way ; 
The branches bend before their sweepy sway. 

Nor was Praeneste's founder wanting there, 
Whom fame reports the son of Mulciber: 
Found in the fire, and foster' d in the plains. 
A shepherd and a king at once he reigns, 
And leads to Turnus' aid his country swains. 
His own Prseneste sends a chosen band, 
With those who plough Saturnia's Gabine land ; 
Besides the succour which cold Anien yields, 
The rocks of Hernicus, and dewy fields, 
Anagnia fat, and father Amasene — 
A num'rous rout, but all of naked men : 
i\or arms they wear, nor swords and bucklers wield, 
Nor drive tne cnanot tnrougn tne austy field, 



JEXtis. 95 

But whirl from leathern slings huge balls of lead ; 
And spoils of yellow wolves adorn their head : 
The left foot naked, when they march to light ; 
But in a bull's raw hide they sheath the right. 

Messapus next, (great Neptune was his sire) 
Secure of steel, and lated from the lire, 
In pomp appears, and with his ardour warms 
A heartless tram, unexercis'd in arms: 
The just Faliscans he to battle brings, 
And those who live where late Ciminius springs: 
And where Feronia's grove and temple stands, 
Who till Fescennian or Flavinian lands: 
All these in order march, and marching sing 
The warlike actions of their sea-born king ; 
Like a long team of snowy swans on high, 
Which clap their wings, and cleave the liquid sky, 
When, homeward from their wat'ry pastures born« 
They sing, and Asia's lakes their notes return. 
Not one, who heard their music from afar, 
Would think these troops an army traiu'd to war, 
But flocks of" fowl, that, when the tempest roar, 
W^ith their hoarse gabbling seek the silent shore. 
Then Clausus came, who led a numerous band 
Of troops embodied from the Sabine land, 
And, in himself alone, an army brought. 
'Twas he the noble Claudian race begot, 
The Claudian race, ordain'd, in times to come, 
To share the greatness of imperial Rome. 
He led the Cures forth of old renown, 
Mutuscans from their olive-bearing town, 
And all th' Eretrian povv'rs; besides a band 
That follow'd from VelinunVs dewy land. 
And Amiternian troops, of mighty fame, 
And mountaineers, that from Severus came, 
And from the craggy cliffs of Tetrica, 
And those where yellow Tiber takes his way, 
And where Himella's wanton waters play. 



96 JENEIS. 

Casperia sends her arms, with those that lie 
By Fabaris, and fruitful Foruli : 
The warlike aids of Horta next appear, 
And the cold Nursians come to close the rear, 
Mix'd with the natives born of Latine blood. 
Whom Allia washes with her fatal flood. 
Mot thicker billows beat the Libyan main, 
When pale Orion sets in wintry ram, 
Nor thicker harvests on rich Hermus rise, 
Or Lycian fields, when Phoebus burns the srues, 
Than stand these troops: their bucklers ring around ; 
Their trampling turns the turf, and shakes the solid 
ground. 

High in his chariot then Halesus came, 
A foe by birth to Troy's unhappy name: 
From Agamemnon born — to Turnus' aid, 
A thousand men the youthful hero led, 
Who till the iVlassic soil, for wine renown'ri, 
And fierce Auruncans from their hilly ground, 
And those who live by Sidicinian shores, 
And where with shoaly fords Vulturnus roars, 
Cales' and Osca's old inhabitants, 
And rough Saticulans, inur'd to wants. 
Light demi-lances from afar they throw, 
Fasten'd with leathern thongs, to gall the foe. 
Short crooked swords in closer fight they wear, 
And on their warding arm light bucklers bear. 

Nor (Ebalus, shalt thou be left unsung 
From nymph Sebethis and old Telon sprung, 
Who then in Teloboan Capri reign 'd ; 
But that short isle th' ambitious youth disdain'd, 
And o'er Campania stretch'd his ample sway, 
W 7 here swelling Sarnus seeks the Tyrrhene sea — 
O'er Batulum, and where Abella sees, 
From her high tow'rs, the harvest of her trees. 
And these (as was the Teuton use of old) 
Wield brazen swords, and brazen bucklers hold 



ALNEIS. 97 

Sling we ? ghty stones when from afar they fight ; 
Their casques are cork, a cov'ring thick and light. 
Next these in rank, the warlike Ufens went, 
And led the mountain troops that Nursia sen^ 
The rude JLquiculse his rule obey'd ; 
Hunting their sport, and plundering was their trade. 
In arms they plough'd, to battle still prepar'd : 
Their soil was barren, and their hearts were hard. 

Umbro the priest, the proud Marrubians led, 
By king Archippus sent to Turnus' aid ; 
And peaceful olives crown 1 d his hoary head. 
His wand and holy wcrds, the viper's rage, 
And venoin'd wounds of serpents could assuage. 
He, when he pleas'd with powerful juice to steep 
Their temples, shut their eyes in pleasing sleep. 
But vain were Martian herbs, and magic art, 
To cure the wound giv'n by the Dardan dart. 
Yet this untimely fate th' Angitian woods 
In sighs remurmur'd to the Fucine floods. 
The son of fam'd Hippolytus was there, 
Fam'd as his sire, and, as his mother fair; 
Whom in Egcrian groves Aricia bore, 
And nurs'd his youth along the marshy shore, 
Where great Diana's peaceful altars flame, 
In fruitful fields ; and Virbius was his name. 
Hippolytus, as old records have said. 
Was by his stepdame sought to share her bed : 
But, when no female arts nis mind could move, 
She turn d to furious hate her impious love. 
Torn by wild horses on the sandy shore, 
Another's crime th' unhappy hunter bore ; 
Glutting his father's eyes with guiltless gore. 
But chaste Diana, who his death deplor'd, 
With iEsculapian herbs his life restor'd ; 
When Jove, who saw from high, with just disdain, 
The dead inspir'd with vital breath again, 
Struck to the centre, with his fia ning dart. 
Th' unhappy founder of the gcx jike art. 
voi, n. 7 



98 JENEIS. 

But Trivia kept in secret shades alone, 

Her care, Hippolytus, to fate unknown 

And call'd him Verbius in th' Egerian grove, 

Where thou he liv'd secure but safe from Jove. 

For this, from Trivia's temple and her wood, 

Are coursers driven, who shed their master's blood, 

Affrighted by the monsters of the flood. 

His son, the second Virbius, yet retained 

His father's art, and warrior steeds he rein'd. 

Amid the troops, and like the leading god. 
High o'er the rest in arms, the graceful Turnus rode: 
A triple pile of plumes his crest adorn'd, 
On which, with belching flames,Chimaera bum'd: 
The more the kindled combat rises higher, 
The more with fury burns the blazing fire. 
Fair 16 grae'd his shield ; but 16 now 
With horns exalted stands, and seems to low— 
A noble charge ! Her keeper by her side, 
To watch her walks, her hundred eyes applied ; 
And on the brims, her sire, the wat'ry god, 
Roll'd from his silver urn his crystal flood. 
A cloud of foot succeeds, and fills the fields 
With swords, and pointed spears, and clatt'ring shields; 
Of Argive, and of old Sicanian bands, 
And those who plough the rich Rutulian lands; 
Anruncan youth, and those Sacraua yields, 
And the proud Lubicans, with painted shields 
And those who near Numician streams reside, 
And those whom Tiber's holy forests hide, 
Or Circe's hills from the mam laud divide, 
•.Vhere Ufens glides along the lowly lands, , 
Or the black water of Pomptina stands. 

Last from the Volscians fair Camilla came,' 
And led her warlike iroops, a warrior dame: 
Unbred to spinning, in the loom unskill'd, 
She chose the nobler Pallas of the field. 
Mix'd with the first, the fierce Virago fought, 
$ustain"d the to*is of arms, the dangers sought; 



JENEI9 99 

Outstripped the winds in speed upon the plain, 
Flew o'er the field, nor hurt the bearded grain: 
bhe swept the seas, and, as she skimm'd along, 
her i ying feet, unbath'd on billows hung. ; ,* 3 . 
Men, Loys, and women, stupid with surprise, 
Where'er she passes fix their wond'ring eyes: 
Longing they look, and gaping at the sight, 
Devour her o'er and o'er with vast delight ; 
Her purple habit sits with such a grace 
On her smooth shoulders, and so suits her face ; 
Her head with ringlets of her hair is crown'd ; 
And in a golden caul the curls are bound. 
She shakes her myrtle, jav'lin ; and, behind 
Her Lycian quiver dances in the wind. 



JE N E I S. 



BOOK VIII. 



ARGUMENT. 

T>»« war being now begun, both the generals make all possible 
preparations. Ttirnus sends to Piomedes. /Eneas goes in 
person to beg succours from Evander and the Tuscans. Evan- 
der receives him kindly, furnishes him with men, and sends 
his son Pallas with him. Vulcan, at the request of Venus, 
makes arms for her son iEneas, and draws on his shield the 
most memorable actions of his posterity. 



W HEN Turnus had assembled a<l his pow'rs, 
His standard planted on LaurentunVs tow'rs, 
When now the sprightly trumpet, from afai, 
Had giv'n the signal of approaching war, 
Had rous'd the neighing steeds to scour the fields, 
While the fierce riders clatter'd on their shields. 
Trembling with rage, the Latian youth prepare 
To join th 1 allies, and headlong rush to war. 
Fierce Ufens, and Messapus led the crowd, 
With bold Mezentius, who blasphem'd aloud. 
These through the country to^k their wasteful course, 
The fields to forage, and to gather force. 
Then Venelus to Diomede they send, 
To beg his aid, Ausonia to defend, 
Declare the common danger, and inform 
The Grecian leader of the growing storm: 
" ,Eneas, landed on the Latian coast, 
With banish'd gods, and with, a baffled host, 



101 



Yet now aspifd to conquest of the state, 

And claim'd a title from the gods and fate; 

What num'rous nations in his quarrel came, 

And how they spread his formidable name, 

What he designed, what mischiefs might arise, 

[f fortune favour'd his first enterprise, 

Was left for him to weigh, whose equal fears, 

And common intVest was involv'd in theirs." 

While Turnus and th 1 allies thus urge the war, 

The Trojan, floating in a flood of care, 

Beholds the tempest which his foes prepare. 

This way and that he turns his anxious mind : 

Thinks and rejects the counsels he design'd ; 

Explores himself in vain, in ev'ry part, 

And gives no rest to his distracted heart. 

So, when the sun by day, or moon by night, 

Strike on the poiish'd brass their trembling light. 

The glitt'ring species here and there divide, 

And cast their dubious beams from side to side. 

Now on the walls, now on the pavement play, 

And to the ceiling flash the glaring day. 

'Twas night: and weary nature lull'd asleep 

The birds of air, and fishes of the deep, 

And beasts, and mortal men. The Trojan chief 

Was laid on Tyber's banks, oppressed with grief, 

And found in silent slumber late relief. 

Then, through the shadows of the poplar wood, 

Arose the father of the Roman flood ; 

An azure robe was o'er his body spread, 

A wreath of shady reeds adorn'd his head : 

Thus, manifest to sight, the god appear'd, 

And with these pleasing words his sorrow cheer'd. 

" Undoubted offspring of etherea 1 race, 

O long expected in this promis'd place ! 

Who, through the foes, hast borne thy banish'd gods, 

Restor'd them to their hearths, and old abodes — 

This is thy happv home, the clime where fate 

Oaiaiu. that! lo restore the Trojan staie. 



102 -ENEIS. 

Fear r.ot ! the war shall end in lasting peace, 
And all the rage of haughty Juno cease. 
And that this nightly vision may not seem 
Th' effect of fancy, or an idle dream, 
A sow beneath an oak shall lie along, 
All white herself, and white her thirty young. 
When thirty rolling years have run their race, 
Thy son Ascanius, on this empty space, 
Shall build a royal town, of lasting fame, 
Which from this omen shall receive the name. 
Time shall approve the truth.— For what remains 
And how with sure success to crown your pains, 
With patience next attend. A banish'd band, 
Driv'n with Evander from th' Arcadian land, 
Have planted here, and plac'd on high their walls; 
Their town the founder Pallenteum calls, 
Deriv'd from Pallas, his great grandsire's name, 
But the fierce Latians old possession claim, 
With war infesting the new colony: 
These make thy friends, and on their aid rely. 
To thy free passage I submit my streams. 
Wake, son of Venus, from thy pleasing dreams; 
And, when the setting stars are lost in day, 
To Juno's pow'r thy just devotion pay ; 
With sacrifice the wrathful queen appease: 
Her pride at length shall fall, her fury cease. 
When thou return'st victorious from the war, 
Perform thy vows to me with grateful care. 
The god am I, whose yellow water flows 
Around these fields, and fattens as it goes : 
Tiber my name — among the rolling floods, 
Renown'd on earth, esteem'd among the gods. 
This is my certain seat. In times to come, 
My waves shall wash the walls of mighty Rome." 
He said ; and plung'd below. While yet he spoke, 
His dream ./Eneas awd his sleep forsook. 
He rose, and, looking up, beheld the skies 
With purple blushing, and the day arise. 



.ENEIS. 103 

Then water in his hollow palm he took 

From Tiber's flood, and thus the pow'rs oespoke: 

" Laurentian nymphs, by whom the streams are fed, 

And father Tiber, in thy sacred bed 

Receive jEneas, and from danger keep. 

Whatever fount, whatever holy deep, 

Conceals thy wat'ry stores— where'er they rise, 

And, bubbling from below, salute the skies — 

Thou, king of horned floods whose plenteous urn 

Suffices fatness to the fruitful corn, 

For this thy kind compassion of our woes, 

Shalt share my morning song, and ev'ning vows. 

But Oh ! be present to thy people's aid, 

And firm the gracious promise that thou hast made." 

Thus having said, two galleys, from his stores, 

With care he chooses, mans, and fits with oars. 

Now on the shore the fatal swine is found — 

Wond'rous to tell ! — She lay along the ground. 

Her well-fed offspring at her udders hung ; 

She white herself, and white her thirty young. 

iEneas takes the mother and her brood ; 

And all on Juno's altar are bestow'd. 

The following night, and the succeeding day, 

Propitious Tiber smooth'd his wat'ry way: 

He roll'd his river back, and pois'd he stood, 

A gentle swelling, and a peaceful flood. 

The Trojans mount their ships ; they put from shore, 

Borne on the waves, and scarcely dip an oar. 

SJiouts from the land give omen to their course : 

And the pitch 'd vessels glide with easy force. 

The woods and waters wonder at the gleam 

Of shields, and painted ships that stem the stream. 

One summer's night and one whole day they pass 

Betwixt the green-wood shades, and cut the liquid gle 

The fiery sun had nnish'd half his race 

Look'd back, and doubted in the middle ^nace, 

W T hen they from far beheld the risin s towers. 

The tops of sheds, and shepherds' lowly bow' is, 



104 2LNKiS. 

Thin as they stood, which, then of homely clay, 
Now rise in marble, from the Roman sway 
These cots (Evander's kingdom, mean and poor) 
The Trojan saw, and turn'd his ships to shore. . 
'Twas on a solemn day: th' Arcadian states, 
The king and prince, without the city gates, 
Then paid their ofPrings in a sacred grove 
To Hercules, the warrior son of Jove. 
Thick clouds of rolling smoke involve the skies ; 
And fat of entrails on his altar fries. 

But, when they saw the ships that stemm'd the flood, 
And glitter' d through the covert of the wood, 
They rose with fear, and left th' unfinished feast, 
Till dauntless Pallas reassured the rest 
To pay the rit^s. Himself without delay 
A jav'lin seiz'd, and singly took his way. 
Then gain'd a rising ground, and call'd from far: 
" Resolve me, strangers, whence, and what you are ; 
Your bus'ness here ; and bring you peace or war ?" 
High on the stern iEneas took his stand, 
And held a branch of olive in his hand. 
While thus he spoke: " The Phyrgians' arms you see, 
ExpelPd from Troy, provok'd in Italy 
By Latian foes, with war unjustly made — 
At first affianc'd, and at last betray'd. 
This message bear: The Trojans and their chief 
Bring holy peace, and beg the king's relief ' 
Struck with so great a name, and all on fire, 
The youth replies: " Whatever you require, 
Your fame exacts. Upon our shores descend, 
A welcome guest, and, what you wish, a friend,. 
He said, and downward hasting to the strand, 
Embraced the stranger prince, and join'd his hand. 
Conducted to the grove, iEneas broke 
The silence first, and thus the king bespoke: 
« Best of the Greeks ! to whom by fate's command, 
1 bear these peaceful branches in my hand — 



iENErS. 105 

Undaunted I approach you, though I know 
Your birth is Grecian, and your land my foe: 
From Atreus though your ancient lineage came, 
And both the brother kings your kindred claim : 
Yet my self-conscious worth, your high renown, 
Your virtue, through the neighboring nations blown, 
Our fathers' mingled blood, Apollo's voice, 
Have led me hither, less by need than choice. 
Our father Dardanus, as fame has sung, 
And Greeks acknowledge, from Plectra sprung: 
Electra from the loins of Atlas came — 
Adas, whose head sustains the starry frame. 
Your sire is Mercurv, whom lon 1 ^ before 
On cold Cyllene's top fair Maia bore. 
Maia the fair, on fane if we rely, 
Was Atlas 1 daughter, who sustains the sky. 
Thus from one common source our streams divide: 
Ours is the Trojan, yours th' Arcadian side. 
Rais'd by these hopes, 1 sent no news before, 
"Nor ask'd your leave, nor did your faith implore ; 
Hut. come, without a pledge, my own ambassador. 
The same Rutul.ans, who with arms pursue 
The Trojan race, are equal foes to you. 
Our host expelPd, what further force can stay 
The victor troops from universal sway? 
Then will they stretch their pow'r athwart the land, 
And either sea from side to side command. 
Receive our offer'd faith, and give us thine: 
Ours is a generous and experienc'd line: 
We want not hearts nor bodies for the war ; 
In council cauiious, and in fields we dare." 
He said: and, while he spoke, with piercing eyes 
Evander view'd the man with vast surprise — 
Pleas'd with his action, ravish'd with his face ; 
Tnen answer'd briefly, with a royal grace; 
11 O valiant leader of the Trojan line, 
In whom the features of thy father shine ! 



106 JENEIS. 

How I recall Anchises ! how I see 

His motions, mien, and all my friend, in thee ! 

Long though it be, 'tis fresh within my mind, 

When Priam to his sister's court design'd 

A welcome visit, with a friendly stay, 

And through th' Arcadian kingdom took his way. 

Then, pass'd a boy, the callow down began 

To shade my chin, and call me first a man. 

saw the shining train with vast delight; 
And Priam's goodly person pleas'd my sight : 
But great Anchises, far above the rest, 
With awful wonder rir'd my youthful breast. 
I long'd to join, in friendship's holy bands, 
Our mutual hearts, and plight our mutual hands. 
I first accosted him : 1 sued, I sought, 
And, with a loving force, to Pheneus brought. 
He gave me, when at length constrain'd to go, 
A Lycian quiver and a Gnossian bow, 
A vest embroider'd, glorious to behold, 
And two rich bridles, with their bits of gold, 
Which my son's coursers in obedience hold. 
The league you ask, I offer, as your right ; 
And when to-morrow's sun reveals the light, 
With swift supplies you shall be sent away. 
Now celebrate with us, this solemn day, 
Whose holy rites admit no long dela}\ 
Honour our annual feast ; and take your seat, 
With friendly welcome, at a friendly treat." 
Thus having said, the bowls remov'd (for fear) 
The youths replac'd, and soon restor'd the cheer. 
On sods of turf he set the soldiers round : 
A maple throne, rais'd higher from the ground, 
Receiv'd the Trojan chief; and o'er the bed, 
A lion's shaggy hide, for ornament they spread. 
The loaves were serv'd in canisters ; the wine 
In bowls; the priest renew'd the rites divine: 
Broil' d entrails are their food, and beef's continued 
chine. 



107 



But, when the rage of hunger was repressed, 
Thus spoke Evander to his royal guest : 
" These rites, these altars, and this feast, O king, 
From no vain fears or superstition spring, 
Or blind devotion, or from blinder chance, 
Or heady zeal, or brutal ignorance: 
But, sav'd from danger, with a grateful sense, 
The labours of a god we recompense. 
See, from afar, yon rock that mates the sky ; 
About whose feet such heaps of rubbish lie; 
Such undigested ruin ; bleak and bare, 
How desert now it stands, expos'd m air! 
'Twas once a robber's den, mclos'd around 
With living stone, and deep beneath the ground, 
The monster Cacus, more than half a beast, 
This hold, impervious to the sun, possess'd. 
The pavement ever foul with human gore: 
Heads, and their mangled members, hung the door. 
Vulcan this plague begot ■ and, like his sire, 
Black clouds he belch'd and flakes of livid fire. 
Time, long expected, eas'd us of our load, 
And brought the needful presence of a god. 
Th' avenging force of Hercules, from Spain, 
Arriv'd in triumph, from Geryon slain : — 
Thrice hVd the giant, and thrice liv'd in vain. 
His prize, the lowing herds, Alcides drove 
Near Tyber's banks, to graze the shady grove 
Allur'd with hope of plunder, and intent 
By force to rob, by fraud to circumvent, 
The brutal Cacus," as by chance they stray'd, 
Four oxen thence, and four fair kine, convey'd. 
And, lest the printed footsteps might be seen, 
He dragg'd them backwards to his rocky den. 
The tracks averse a lying notice gave, 
And led the searcher backward from the cave. 
Meantime the herdsmen hero shifts his place, 
To find fresh pasture and untrodden grass. 



108 iENEIS 

The beasts, who miss'd their mates, fill'd all around 

With bellowings : and the rocks restorVi the sound. 

One heifer, who had heard her love complain, 

Roar'd from the cave, and made the project vain. 

Alcides found the fraud : with rage he shook, 

And tossM about his head his knotted oak. 

Swift as the winds, or Scythian arrow's flight, 

He climb'd, with eager haste, the aerial height. 

Then first we saw the monster mend his pace: 

Fear in his eyes, and paleness in his face, 

Confess'd the god's approach Trembling he springs, 

As terror had increas'd his feet with wings; 

Nor staid for stairs : but down the depth he threw 

His body : on his back the door he drew — 

(The door a rib of living rock: with pains 

His father hew'd it out, and bound with chains:) 

He broke the heavy links, the mountain clos'd, 

And bars and levers to his foe oppos'd. 

The wretch had hardly made his dungeon fast; 

The fierce avenger came with bounding haste ; 

Surveyed the mouth of the forbidden hold ; 

And here and there his raging eyes he roll'd. 

He gnash'd his teeth ; and thrice he compass'd round 

With winged speed the circuit of the ground. 

Thrice at the cavern's mouth he puli'd in vain: 

And, panting, thrice desisted from his pain: 

A pointed, flmty rock, all bare and black, 

Grew gibbous from behind the mountain's back, 

Owls, ravens, all ill omens of the night, 

I {ere built their nests, and hither wing'd their flight. 

The leaning head hung threat'ning o'er the flood, 

And nodded to the left The hero stood 

Averse, with planted feet, and from the right, 

Tugg'd at the solid stone with all his might. 

Thus heav'd, the fix'd foundations of the rock 

(rave way; heaven echo'd at the raffling shock 

Tumbling, it chok'd the flood on either side 

The banks leap backward, and the streams divide: 



.ENEIS. 109 

The sky shrunk upward with unusual dread ; 

And trembling Tyber div'd beneath his bed. 

The court of Cacus stands reveaPd tc sight: 

The cavern glares with new-admitted light. 

So the pent vapours, with a rumbling sound, 

Heave from below, and rend the hollow ground ; 

A sounding flaw succeeds; and, from on high. 

The gods with hate behold the nether sky: 

The ghosts repine at violated night, 

And curse th' invading sun, and sicken at the sight. 

The graceless monster, caught in open day, 

Enclob'd, and in despair to fly away, 

Howls horrible from underneath, and fills 

His hollow palace with unmanly yells. 

The hero stands above, and from afar 

Flies him with darts, and stones, and distant war. 

He from his nostrils, and huge mouth, expires 

Black clouds of smoke, amidst his father's fires, 

Gath'ring, with each repeated blast, the night, 

To make uncertain aim, and erring sight. 

The watchful god then plunges from above, 

And, where in thickest waves, the sparkles drove, 

Their lights ; and wades through fumes, and gropes 

his way, 
Half sing^half stifled, till he grasps his prey. 
The monster spewing fruitless flames, he found ; 
He squeez'd his throat • he writh'd his neck around, 
And in a knot his crippled members bound ; 
Then from their sockets, tore his burning eyes: 
Roll'd on a heap, the breathless robber lies. 
The doors, unbarr'd, receive the rushing day ; 
And thorough lights disclose the ravish'd prey; 
The buhs, redeem'd, breathe open air again. 
Next, by the feet they drag him from his den. 
The wond'ring neighbourhood, with glad surprise, 
Beheld his shagged breast, his giant size, 
His mouth that flames no mo e, and his extinguish'd 

eyes. 



110 ^NEIS. 

From that auspicious day, with rites divine, 

We worship at the hero's holy shrine. 

Portitius first ordain'd these annual vows: 

As priests, were added the Pinanan house, 

Who rais'd this altar in the sacred shade, 

W 7 here honours, ever due, for ever shall be paid. 

For these deserts, and this high virtue shown, 

Ye warlike youths, your heads with garlands crown 

Fill high the goblets with a sparkling flood ; 

And with deep draughts invoke our common god." 

This said, a double wreath Evander twin'd ; 

And poplars black and white his temples bind. 

Then brims his ample bowl. With like design 

The rest invoke the gods, with sprinkled wine. 

Meantime the sun descended from the skies, 

And the bright ev'ning star began to rise. 

And now the priests, Portitius at their head, 

In skins of beasts involv'd, the long procession led; 

Held high the flaming tapers in their hands, 

As custom had prescrib'd their holy bands ; 

Then with a second course the tables load, 

And with full chargers offer to the god. 

The Salii sing, and 'cense his altars round 

With Saban smoke, their heads with poplar bound 

One choir of old, another of the young, 

To dance, and bear the burden of the song. 

The lay records the labours, and the praise, 

And all th' immortal acts of Hercules: 

First, how the mighty babe, when swatb'd in bands 

The serpent strangled with his infant hands ; 

Then, as in years and matchless force he grew, 

Th' (Echalian walls, and Trojan, overthrew. 

Besides a thousand hazards they relate, 

Procur'd by Juno's and Eurystheus' hate. 

" Thv hands, unconquer'd heio, could subdue 
The cloud-born Centaurs, and the monster crew: 
Nor thy resistless arm the bull withstood, 
Nor he the roaring terror of the wood. 



^NEIS. Ill 

The triple porter of the Stygian seat, 
With lolling tongue, lay fawning at thy feet, 
And, seiz'd with fear, forgot his mangled meat. 
Th' infernal water trembled at thy sight ; 
Thee, god ! no face of dangers couid affright ; 
Not huge Typhoeus, nor th' unnumber'd snake, 
Increas'd with hissing heads, in Lerna's lake. 
Hail, Jove's undoubted son ! an added grace 
To heaven and the great author of thy race ; 
Receive the grateful off 'rings which we pay, 
And smile propitious on the solemn day !" 
In numbers thus they sung- above the rest, 
The den and death of Cacus crown the feast. 
The woods to hollow vales convey the sound ; 
The vales to hills ; and hills the notes rebound. 
The rites perform'd, the cheerful train retire. 
Betwixt young Pallas and his aged sire, 
The Trojan pass'd, the city to surrey : 
And pleasing talk beguil'd the tedious way. 
The stranger cast around his curious eyes, 
New objects view ..g still with new surprise ; 
With greedy joy inquires of various things. 
And acts and monuments of ancient kings. 
Then thus the founder of the Roman tow'rs: 
" These woods were first the seat of Sylvan pow'rs, 
Of Nymphs and Fauns, and savage men who took 
Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn oak. 
Nor laws they knew, nor manners, nor the care 
Of lab'ring oxen, nor the shining share, 
Nor arts of gain, nor what they gain'd to spaie. 
Their exercise the chase : the running flood 
Supplied their thirst ; the trees supplied their food 
Then Saturn came, who fled the pow'r of Jove, 
Robb'd of his realms, and banish'd from above. 
The men dispers'd on hills, to towns he brought, 
And laws ordain'd, and civil customs taught, 
And Latium call'd the land where safe he lay 
From his unduteous son, and hrs usurping sway. 



112 JENEiS. 

With his mild empire, peace and plenty came ; 
And thence the golden times denv'd their name. 
A more degenerate, and discolour'd age 
Succeeded this, with avarice and rage. 
Tli' Ausonians then, and bold Sicanians, came ; 
And Saturn's empire often chang'd the najne. 
Then kings— gigantic Tybris, and the rest — 
With arbitrary sway the land opnrest; 
For Tyber's flood was Albula before, 
Till from the tyrant's fate, his name it bore. 
I last arriv'd, driv'n from my native home, 
By fortune's pow'r, and fate's resistless doom. 
Long toss'd on seas, I sought this hapy land, 
Warn'd by my mother nymph, and call'd by heav Vs 
command." 
Thus, walking on, he spoke and show'd the gate, 
Since call'd Carmental by the Roman state ; 
VVIiere stood an altar, sacred to the name 
Of old Carmenta, the prophetic dame, 
Who to her son foretold th' iEnean race, 
Sublime in fame, and Rome's imperial place ; — 
Then shows the forests, which, in after-times, 
Fierce Romulus, for perpetrated cr.mes, 
A sacred refuge made ; — with this, the shrine 

Where Pan below the rock had rites divine; 

Then tells of Argus' death, his murder'd guest, 

Whose grave and tomb his innocence attest. 

Thence, to the steep Tarpeian rock he leads — 

Now roof'd with gold, then thatch'd with homely reeds 

A rev' rent fear (such superstition reigns 

Among the rude) ev'n then possess'd the swains. 

Some god, they knew — what god, they could not tell- 

Did there amidst the sacred horror dwell. 

Th' Arcadians thought him Jove; and said they saw 

The mighty Thund'rer with majestic awe, 

Who shook his shield, and dealt his bolts around, 

An: 1 scatter' d tei*»*ests on the teeming ground. 



JENE1S. 1J3 

Then saw two heaps of rums, (once they stood 

Two stately tow ns, on either side the flood) 

Saturnia's and Janiculum's remains ; 

And either place the founder's name retains. 

Discoursing thus together, they resort 

Where poor Evander kept his country court. 

They view'd the ground of Rome's litigious hali: 

(Once oxen low'd, where now the lawyers bawl ) 

Then stooping, through the narrow gate they press'd, 

When thus the king bespoke his Trojan guest: 

41 Mean as it is, this p?Jace, and this door, 

Keceiv'd Alcides, then a conqueror, 

Dare to be poor : accept our homely food, 

Which feasted him ; and emulate a god.' 

Then underneath a lowly roof he led 

The weary prince, and laid him on a bed ; 

The stuffing, leaves, with hides of bears o'ersp^ad. 

Now night had shed her silver dews around, 
And with her sable wings embrac'd the ground, 
When love's fair goddess, anxious for her son, 
(New tumults rising, and new wars begun) 
Couch'd with her husband in his golden bed, 
With these alluring words invokes his aid — 
And, that her pleasing speech his mind may move, 
Inspires each accent with the charms of love 
44 While cruel fate inspir'd with Grecian pow'rs, 
To level with the ground the Trojan tow'rs, 
[ask'd not aid th' unhappy to restore, 
Nor did the succour of thy skill implore 
Nor urg'd the labours of my lord in vain, 
A sinking empire longer to sustain, 
Though much I ow'd to Priam's house, and more 
The danger of iEneas did deplore. 
Hut now, by Jove's command, and Fate's decree. 
His race is doom'd to reign in Italy : 
With humble suit I beg thy needful art, 
O still propitious pow'r, that rul'st my heart ' 

VOL. II. 8 



114 £NE1S. 

A mother kneels a suppliant for her son, 
By Thetis and Aurora thou wert won 
To forge impenetrable shields, and g»ace 
With fated arms a less illustrious race. 
H^hold what haughty nations are combined 
Against the relics of the Phrygian kind, 
With fire and sword my people to destroy, 
And conquer Venus twice, in conq'ring Troy." 
She said ; and straight her arms, of snowy hue, 
About her unresolving husband threw. 
Her soft embraces soon infuse desire: 
His bones and marrow sudden warmth inspire; 
And all the godhead feeis the wonted fire. 
Not half so swift the rattling thunder flies, 
Or forky lightnings flash along the skies. 
The goddess, proud of her successful wiles, 
And conscious of her form, in secret smiles. 
Then thus the pow'r obnoxious to her charms, 
Panting, ar. ^ half dissolving in her arms: 
11 Why seek you reasons for a cause so just, 
Or your own beauties or my love distrust ? 
Long since, had you required my helpful hand, 
Th' artificer and art you might command, 
To labour arms for Troy : nor Jove, nor Fate, 
( /Onfin'd their empire to so short a date. 
And, if you now desire new wars to wage, 
My skill I promise, and my pains engage. 
Whatever melting metal can conspire, 
()i breathing bellows, or the forming fire, 
1? freely yours: your anxious fears remove, 
And think no task is difficult to love." 
Trembling he spoke ; and, eager of her charms, 
He snatch'd the willing goddess to his arms ; 
Till, in her lap infusM,he lay possess'd 
Of full desire- and sunk to pleasing rest. 
Wow when the night her middle race had rode, 
And his first slumber had refresh'd the god — 



2ENEIS. 11 « 

The time when early housewives leave the bed, 
When living embers on the hearth are spread, 
Supply the lamp, and call the maids to rise ; — 
With yawning mouths, and with half open'd eyes 
They ply the distaff by the winking light, 
And to their daily labour add the night: 
Thus frugally they earn their children's bread, 
And uncorrupted keep their nuptial bed — 
Not less concern'd, nor at a later hour, 
Rose from his downy couch the forging pow'r. 
Sacred to Vulcan's name, an isle there lay, 
Betwixt Sicilia's coasts and Lipare, 
Rais'd high on smoking rocks; and deep below, 
|n hollow caves the fires of iEtna glow. 
The Cyclops here their heavy hammers deal: 
Loud strokes, and hissings of tormented steel, 
Are heard around ; the boiling waters roar ; 
And smoky flames through fuming tunnels soar. 
H ither the father of the tire, by night, 
Through the brown air precpitales his flight. 
On their eternal anvils here he found 
The brethren beating, and the blows go round: 
A load of pointless thunder now there lies 
Before their hands, to ripen for the skies: 
These darts, for angry Jove, they daily cast— 
Consum'd on mortals with prodigious waste. 
Three rays of writhen rain, of fire three more, 
Of winged southern winds and cloudy store 
As many parts, the dreadful mixture frame ; 
And fears are added, and avenging flame. 
Inferior ministers, for Mars, repair 
His broken axle-trees, and blunted war, 
And send him forth again with furbish'd arms, 
To wake the lazy war with trumpets' loud alarms. 
The rest refresh the scaly snakes that fold 
The shield of Pallas, and renew their gold. 
Full on the crest, the Gorgon's head they place, 
Willi eyes mat roll in death, and with distorted face. 



116 «NEIS. 

ti My sons !" said Vulcan, " set your tasks aside: 

Your strength and master-skill must now be tried. 

Arms for a hero forge— arms that require 

Your force, your speed, and all your forming fire." 

He said. They set their former work aside, 

And their new toils with eager haste divide. 

A flood of molten silver, brass, and gold, 

\nd deadly steel, in the large furnace roll'd: 

Of this, their artful hands a shield prepare, 

Alone sufficient to sustain the war. 

Sev'n orbs within a spacious round they close. 

One stirs the fire, and one the bellows blows. 

The hissing steel is in the smithy drown'd ; 

The grot with beaten anvils groans around. 

By turns, their arms advance in equal time: 

By turns, their hands descend, and hammers chime. 

They turn the glowing mass with crooked tongs: 

The fiery work proceeds, with rustic songs. 

While, at the Lemnian god's command, they urge 

Their labours thus, and ply th' iEolian forge, 

The cheerful morn salutes Evander's eyes, 

And songs of chirping birds invite to rise. 

He leaves his lowly bed hi c buskins meet 

Above his ankles; sandals sheath his feet: 

He sets his trusty sword upon his side, 

And o'er his shoulder throws a panther's hide. 

Two menial dogs before their master press'd. 

Thus clad, and gaurded thus, he seeks his kingly guest 

Mindful of promis'd aid he mends his pace, 

But meets iEneas in the middle space. 

Young Pallas did his father's steps attend ; 

And true Achates waited on his friend. 

They join their hands: a secret seat they choose: 

Th' Arcadian first their former talk renews: 

u Undaunted prince ! I never can believe 

The Trojan empire lost, while you survive. 

Command th' assistance of a faithful friend: 

But feeble are the succours I can send. 



&NE18. 117 

Our narrow kingdom here the Tyber bounds: 
The other side the Latian state surrounds, 
Insults out walls, and wastes our fruitful grounds. 
But mighty nations I prepare to join 
Their arms with yours, and aid your just design. 
You come, as by your better genius sent; 
And Fortune seems to favour your intent. 
Not far from hence, there stands a hilly town, 
Of ancient building, and of high renown, 
Torn from the Tuscans by the Lydian race, 
Who gave the name of Cfere to the place, 
Once Agyllina caird. It flourish'd long, 
In pride of wealth and warlike people strong, 
Till curs'd Mezentius in a fatal hour, 
Assum'd the crown, with arbitrary pow'r. 
What words can paint those execrable times, 
The subjects' suff 'rings, and the tyrant's crimes? 
That blood, those murders, O ye gods ! replace 
On his own head, and on his impious race ! 
The living and the dead, at his command, 
Were coupled, face to face, and hand to hand, 
Till, chok'n with stench, in loath'd embraces tied, 
The ling'ring wretches pin'd away and died, 
Thus plung'd in ills, and meditating more — 
The people's patience tried, no longer bore 
The raging monster ; but with arms beset 
His house, and vengeance and destruction threat. 
They fire his palace : while the flame ascends, 
They force his guards, and execute his friends. 
He cleave's the crowd, and, favour'd by the night, 
To Turnus' friendly court directs his flight. 
Sy just revenge the Tuscans set on fire, 
With arms, their king to punishment require: 
Their num'rous troops, nowmuster'd on the strand, 
My counsel shall submit to your commano. 
Their navy swarms upon the coasts they cry 
To hoisi their anchors ; but the gods deny. 



118 JEXKIS. 

An ancient augur, skill' d in future fate, 
With these forboding words, restrains their hate: 
" Ye brave in arms, ye Lydian blood, thp flow'r 
Of Tuscan youth, and choice of all their pow'r, 
Whom just revenge against Mezentius' arms, 
To seek your tyrant's death by lawful arms ! 
Know this: no native of our land may lead 
This powerful people: seek a foreign head." 

Aw'd with these words, in camps they still anide, 
And wait with longing looks their promised guide. 
Tarchon, the Tuscan chief, to me has sent 
Their crown, and ev'ry regai ornament: 
The people join their own with his desire; 
And all my conduct, as their king, require. 
B it the chill blood, that creeps within my veins, 
Aiid age, and listless limbs unfit for pains, 
And a soul, conscious of its own decay, 
Have forc'd me to refuse imperial sway. 
My Pallas were more fit to mount the throne, 
And should, but he's a Sabine mother's son, 
And half a native ; but in you, combine 
A manly vigour and a foreign line. 
Y\ here Fate and smiling Fortune show the way, 
Pursue the ready path to sovereign sway. 
The staff of my declining days, my son, 
Shall make your good or ill success his own ; 
in fighting fields, from you shall learn to dare, 
And serve the hard apprenticeship of war ; 
Your matchless courage, and your conduct view: 
And early shall begin t 1 admire and copy you. 
Besides, two hundred horse he shall command — 
Though few, a warlike and well chosen band. 
These in my name are listed ; and my son 
As many more has added in his own." 
Scarce had he said : Achates and his guest, 
W A ith downcast eyes, their silent grief express'd; 
Who, short of succours, and in deep despair, 
Shook at the dismal prospect of the war. 



jENEIS. 119 

Bur his bright mother, from a breaking cloud, 
To cheer her issue, thunderM thrice aloud: 
Thrice forky lightning flash'd along the sky; 
And Tyrrhene trumpets thrice were heard on high. 
Then, gazing up, repeated peals they hear ; 
And, in a heav'n serene, refulgent arms appear: 
Redd'ning the skies, and glitt'ring all around. 
The tempered metals clash, and yield a silver sound. 
The rest stood trembling: struck with awe divine, 
.Eneas only, conscious to the sign, 
Presag'd th' evrfnt, and joyful view'd, above, 
Th' accomplish'd promise of the queen of love 
Then, to th' Arcadian king: " This prodigy 
(Dismiss your fear,) belongs alone to me. 
Heav'n calls me to the war : th' expected sign 
Js giv'n of promised aid, and arms divine. 
My goddess mother, whose indulgent care 
Foresaw the dangers of the growing war, 
This omen gave, when bright Vulcanian arms. 
^3 ted from force of steel by Stygian charms, 
. suspended, shone on high : she then foreshowed 
approaching fights, and fields to float in blood. 
' \irnus shall dearly pay for faith forsworn ; 
•^nd corpse, and swords, and shields, on Tyber borne, 
Shall choke his flood: now sound the loud alarms, 
&nd, Latian troops, prepare your perjur'd arms." 

He said, and, rising from his homely throne. 
The solemn rites of Hercules begun, 
And on his altars wak'd the sleeping fires; 
Then cheerful to his household gods retires. 
There offers -cho sen sheep. Th' Arcadian king, 
And Trojan youth the same oblations bring. 
Next, of his men and ships he makes review ; 
Draws out the best and ablest of the crew. 
Down with the falling stream, the refuse run. 
To raise with joyful news his drooping son. 
Steeds are prepared to mount the Trojan bana, 
Who wait their leader to the Tyrrhene land. 



120 .ENEIS. 

A sprightly courser, fairer than the rest, 
The king himself presents his royal guest. 
A lion's hide his back and limbs infold, 
Precious with studded work, and paws of gold. 
Fame through the little city spreads aloud 
TV intended march ; amid the fearful crow'd, 
The matrons beat their breasts, dissolve in tears, 
And double their devotion in their fears. 
The war at hand appears with more affright, 
And rises ev'ry moment to the sight. 
Then old Evander, with a close embrace. 
Strain'd his departing friend, and tears o'erflow his face. 
" Would heav'n (said he) my strength and youth recall, 
Such as I was beneath Prameste's wall — 
Then when I made the foremost foes retire, 
And set whole heaps of conquer'd shields on fire ; 
When Herilus in single fight I slew, 
Whom with three lives Feronia did endue; 
And thrice 1 sent him to the Stygian shore, 
Till the last ebbing soul return'd no more- 
Such if I stood renew'd, not these alarms, 
Nor death, should rend me from my Pallas' arms 
Nor proud Mezentius, thus, unpunish'd, boast 
His rapes and murders on the Tuscan coast. 
Ve gods ! and mighty Jove ! in pity bring 
Relief, and hear a father and a king! 
If Fate and you reserve these eyes to see 
My son return'd with peace and victory : 
If the lov'd boy snail bless his father's sight ; 
If we shall meet again with more delight; 
Then draw my life in length ; let me sustain, 
In hopes of his embrace, the worst of pain. 
But if your hard decrees — which O ! I dread — 
Have doom'd to death his undeserving head ; 
This, O ! this very moment let me die, 
While hopes and fears in equal balance lie; 
While, yet possess'd of all his youthful charms, 
I strain him r.lose within these aged arms — 



£NEIS. 121 

Before that fatal news my soul shall wound !" 

He said, and, swooning, sunk upon the ground. 

His servants bore him oif, and softly laid 

His languished limbs upon his homely bed. 
The horsemen march ; the gates are open'd wide ; 

/Eneas at their head, Achates by his side. 

Next these, the Trojan leaders rode along: 

Last, follows in the rear th' Arcadian throng. 

Young Pallas shone conspicuous o'er the rest ; 

Gilded his arms, embroider'd was his vest. 

So from the seas, exerts his radiant head 

The star, by whom the lights of heav'n are led ; 

Shakes from his rosy locks the pearly dews, 

Dispels the darkness, and the day renews. 

The trembling wives the walls and turrets crowd, 

And follow, with their eyes, the dusty cloud, 
Which winds disperse by fits, and show from far 
The blaze of arms, and shields, and shining war. 
The troops, drawn up in beautiful array, 
O'er heathy plains pursue the ready way. 
Repeated peals of shouts are heard around : 
The neighing coursers answer to the sound 
And shake with horny hoofs the solid ground 

A greenwood shade, long for religion known, 
Stands by the streams that wash the Tuscan town 
Encompassed round the gloomy hills above, 
Which add a holy horror to the grove. 
The first inhabitants, of Grecian blood, 
That sacred forest to Silvanus vow'd, 
The guardian of their flocks and fields — and pay 
Their due devotions on his annual day. 
iVot far from hence, along the rivers side, 
In tents secure, the Tuscan troops abide, 
By Tarchon led. Now, from a rising ground, 
-/Eneas cast his wond'ring eyes around, 
And all the Tyrrhene army had in sight, 
Strelch'd on the spacious plain from left, to right. 



122 &NEIS. 

Thither his warlike train the Trojan led, 
Refreshed his men, and wearied horses led. 

Meantime the mothei-goddess, crOwrTd with charms, 
Breaks thro' the clouds and brings the fated arms. 
Within a winding vale she rinds her son, 
On the cool river's banks, retir'd alone. 
She shows her heavenly form without disguise, 
And gives herself to his desiring eyes. 

" Behold (she said) pedorm'd, in every part, 
My promise made, and Vulcan's labour' d art. 
Now seek, secure the Latian enemy, 
And haughty Turnus to the field defy." 
She said : and, having first her son embraced, 
The radiant arms beneath an oak she plac'd. 
Proud of the gift, he roll'd his greedy sight 
Around the work, and gaz'd with vast delight. 
He lifts, he turns, he poises and admires, 
The crested helm, that vomits radiant iires: 
His hands the fatal sword and corslet hold, 
One keen with temper 1 d steel, "one si iff with gold: 
Both ample, flaming both, and beamy bright. 
So shines a cloud, when edg'd with adverse light. 
He shakes the pointed spear, and longs to try 
The plaited cuishes on his manly thigh; 
But most admires the shield's mysterious mould, 
And Roman triumphs rising on the gold : 
For there, emboss'd, the heav'nly smith had wrought 
(Not in the rolls of future fate untaught ) 
The wars in order, and the race divine 
Of warriors issuing from the Julian line. 
The cave of Mars was dress'd with mossy greens: 
There, by the wolf, were .'aid the martial twins. 
Intrepid on her swelling dugs they hung: 
The foster dam loll'd out her fawning tongue : 
They suck'd secure, while bending back her head, 
She lick'd their tender limbs, and form'd them a? they 
ted. 



£K£[S. 123 

Not far from thence, new Rome appears, with games 
I rejected for the rape of Sabine dames. 
The pit resounds with shrieks: a war succeeds, 
For breach of public faith, and unexampled deeds, 
) ieve for revenge the Sabine troops contend : 
The Romans there with arms the prey defend. 
Wearied with tedious war, at length they cease; 
And both the kings and kingdoms plight the peace. 
The friendly chiefs before Jove's altar stand, 
nth arm'd, with each a charger in his hand: 
A fatted sow for sacrifice is led, 
With imprecations on the perjr.r'd head. 
ISear this, the traitor Metius, stretch'd between 
Four fiery steeds, isdragg'd along the green, 
By Tullus 1 doom: the brambles drink his blood; 
And his torn limbs are left, the vulture's food. 
There, Porsena to Rome proud Tarquin brings, 
And would by force restore the banish'd kings. 
One tyrant for his fellow-tyrant fights: 
The Roman youth assert their native rights. 
Before the town the Tuscan army lies, 
To win by famine, or by fraud surprise. 
Their king, half threat'n'mg, half disdaining stood, 
While Codes broke the bridge and stemm'd the flood, 
The captive maids there tempt the raging tide, 
Scap'd from their chains, with Cloelia for their guide. 

High on a rock heroic Manlius stood, 
To guard the temple and the temple's god. 
Then Rome was poor; and there you might behold 
The palace, thatch'd with straw, now roof'd with gold 
The silver goose before the shining gate 
There flew, and by her cackle, sav'd the state, 
She told the Gauls' approach: the 1 approaching Gauls, 
Obscure in night, ascend, and seize the walls. 
The gold dissembled well their yellow hair : 
And golden chains on their white necks they wear: 
Gold are their vests: long Alpine spears they wield 
And their left arm sustains a length of shield. 



124 JENEIS. 

Hard by, the leaping SaJian priests advance: 

And naked through the streets the mad Luperci dance 

In caps of wool ; the targets dropt from heav'n. 

Here modest matrons, in soft Liters driv'n, 

To pay their vows in solemn pomp appear: 

And od'rousgums in their chaste hands they bear. 

far hence remov'd, the Stygian seats are seen ; 

Pains of the damn'd ; and punish'd Catiline, 

Hung on a rock — the traitor; and around, 

The Furies hissing from the nether ground. 

Apart from these, the happy souls he draws, 

And Cato's holy ghost dispensing laws. 

Betwixt the quarters flows a golden sea: 

But foaming surges there in silver play. 

Th-3 dancing dolphins with their tails divide 

The glitt'ring waves, ana cut the precious tide. 

Amid the main, two mighty fleets engage — 

Their brazen beaks oppos'd with equal rage. 

Actium surveys the well-disputed prize: 

Leucate's wat'ry plain with foaming billows fnes. 

Young Ceesar, on the stern, in armour bright, 

Here leads the Romans and their gods to fight: 

His beamy temples shoot their flames afar ; 

And o'er his head is hung the Julian star. 

Agnppa seconds him, with prosperous gales, 

And, with propitious gods, his foes assails. 

A naval crown, that binds his manly brows, 

The happy fortune of the fight foreshows. 

Rang'd on the line oppos'd, Antonius brings 
Barbarian aids, and troops of eastern kings, 
Th' Arabians near, and Bactrians from afar, 
Of tongues discordant, and a mingled war; 
And, rich in gaudy robes, amidst the strife, 
His ill fate follows him — th' Egyptian wife. 
Moving they fight: with oars and forky prows 
The froth is gather'd, and the water glows. 
It seems, as if the Cyclades again 
\\ ere rooted up and justled in the main; 



£LNEIS. 125 

Or floating mountains floating mountains meet) 

Suoh is the fierce encounter of the fleet. 

Fire-balls are thrown, and pointed javelins fly 

The fields of Neptune take a purple dye. 

The queen herself, amidst the loud alarms, 

With cymbals toss'd, her fainting soldiers warms — ■ 

Fool as she was ! who had not yet divin'd 

Her cruel fate ; nor saw the snakes behind. 

Her country gods, the monsters of the sky, 

Great Neptune, Pallas, and love's queen, defy. 

The dog Anubis barks, but barks in vain, 

Nor longer dares oppose th' ethereal train. 

Mars in the middle of the shining shield, 

Is grav'd, and strides along the liquid field. 

The Dirae souse from heav'n with swift descent: 

And Discord, dy'd in blood, with garments rent, 

Divides the crowd : her steps Bellona treads, 

And shakes her iron rod above their heads, 

This seen, Apollo, from his Actian height, 

Pours down his arrows ; at whose winged flight 

The trembling Indians and Egyptians yield, 

And soft Saba?ans quit the wat'ry field. 

The fatal mistress hoists her silken sails, 

And shrinking from the fight, invokes the gales. 

Aghast she looks, and heaves her breast for breath, 

Panting, and pale with fear of future death. 

The god had figur'd hei, as driven along 

By winds and waves, and scudding through the throng. 

Just opposite, sad Nilus opens wide 

His arms and ample bosom to the tide, 

And spreads his mantle o'er the winding coast, 

In which he wraps his queen, and hides the flying host. 

The victor to the gods, his thanks express'd, 

A id Rome triumphant with his presence bless'd. 

j i.ree hundred temples in the town he placed ; 

V\ ith spoils and altars every temple grac'd. 



126 iENEIS. 

Three shining nights, and three succeeding days, 
The fields resound with shouts, the streets with 

praise, 
The domes with son^s, the theatres with plays. 
All altars flame: bef'cve each altar lies, 
Drench'd in his gore, the destin'd sacrifice. 
Great Caesar sits sublime upon his throne, 
Before Apollo's porch of Parian stone; 
Accepts the presents vow'd for victory, 
And hangs the monumental crowns on high. 
Vast crowds of vanquish'd nations march along, 
Various in arms, in habit, and in tongue. 
Here, Mulciber assigns the proper place 
For Carians, and th' ungirt Numidian race; 
Then ranks the Thracians in the second row, 
With Scythians, expert in the dart and bow. 
And here the tam'd Euphrates humbly glides; 
And there the Rhine submits her swelling tides, 
And proud Araxes, whom no bridge could bind. 
The Danes' unconquer'd offspring march behind; 
And Morini, the last of human kind 
The>e figures on the shield divinely wrought, 
By Vulcan labour'd, and by Venus brought, 
With joy and wonder fill the hero's thought. 
Unknown the names, he yet admires the grace, 
And bears aloft the fame and fortune of his race. 



iE N E I S. 



BOOK IX. 



ARGUMENT. 

Piirnus takes advantage of /JCneas's absence, fires some of his 
ships (which are transformed into sea nymphs,) and as 
saults his camp. The Trojans, reduced to the last extrerni 
ties, send Ninus and Euryalus to recall yKneas; which fur 
nishes the poet with that admirable episode of their friend 
ship, generosity, and the conclusion of their adventure. 



VY HILE these affairs in distant places pass'd, 

The various Iris Juno sends with haste, 

To find bold Turnus, who, with anxious thought, 

The secret shade of his great grandsire sought. 

Retir'd alone, she found the daring man, 

And op'd her rosy lips, and thus began : 

44 What none of all the gods could grant thy vows — 

Tiiat, Turnus, this auspicious day bestows! 

/Eneas, gone to seek th' Arcadian prince, 

Has left the Trojan camp without defence: 

Ar.d, short of succours there, employs his pains 

In parts remote to raise the Tuscan swains. 

Now snatch an hour that favours thy designs ; 

Unite your forces, and attack their lines. 5 ' 

This said, on equal wings she pois'd her weight, 

And form'd a radiant rainbow in her flight. 

I'he Daunian hero lifts his hands and eves, 
Ami thus invokes the goddess as she fl'es; 



128 JENEIS. 

•« Iris, the grace of beav'n ! what pow'r divine 

Has sent thee down, through dusky clouds to shine ? 

See, they divide : immortal day appears, 

And glitt'ring planets dancing in their spheres! 

With joy, these happy omens I obey, 

A nd follow, to the war, the god that leads the way." 

Thus having said, as by the brook he stood, 
He scoop'd the water from the crystal flood ; 
Then, with his hands,the drops to heaven he throws, 
And loads the powers above with offer'd vows. 

Now march the bold confed'rates through the plain, 
Well hors'd, well clad — a rich and shining train. 
Messapus leads the van ; and, in the rear, 
The sons of Tyrrheus in bright arms appear. 
In the main battle, with his flaming crest, 
The mighty Turnus tow'rs above the rest. 
Silent they move, majestically slow, 
Like ebbing Nile, or Ganges in his flow 
The Trojans view the dusty cloud from far, 
And the dark menace of the distant war. 
Cai'cus from the rampire saw it rise, 
Blackening the fields, and thick'ning thro' the skies, 
Then to his fellows thus aloud he calls: 
44 What rolling clouds, my friends, approach the walls r 
Arm ! arm ! and man the works ! prepare your spears. 
And pointed darts ! the Latian host appears." 

Thus warned, they shut their gates ; with shouts 
ascend 
The bulwarks, and, secure,their foes attend: 
For their wise general, with foreseeing care, 
Had charg'd them not to tempt the doubtful war: 
Nor, though provok'd, in open fields advance, 
But close within their lines attend their chance. 
Unwilling, yet they keep the strict command, 
And sourly wait in arms the hostile band. 
The fiery Turnus flew before the rest: 
A piebald steed of Thracian strain he pressM ; 
His helm of massy gold ; and crimson was his crest. 



129 



With twenty horse to second his designs. 
An unexpected foe, he fac'd the lines. 
44 Is there (he said) in arms who bravely dare 
His leader's honour and his danger share?" 
Then spurring on, his brandish'd dart he threw, 
In sign of war ; — applauding shouts ensue, 

Amaz'd to find a dastard race that run 
Behind the rampires, and the battle shun, 
He rides around the camp with rolling eyes, 
And stops at ev'ry post, and ev'ry passage tries. 
So roams the nightly wolf about the fold : 
Wet with descending show'rs, and stiff with cold, 
He howls for hunger, and he grins for pain, 
(His gnashing teeth are exercis'd in vain) 
And, impotent of anger, finds no way 
In his distended paws to grasp the prey. 
The mothers listen ; but the bleating lambs 
Securely sv/igthe dug, beneath the dams. 
Thus ranges eager Turnus o'er the plain, 
Sharp with desire, and furious with disdain ; 
Surveys each passage with a piercing sight, 
To force his foes in equal field to fight. 
Thus while he gazes round, at length he spies, 
Where, fenc'd with strong redoubts, their navy lift: 
Close underneath the walls: the washing tide 
Secures from all approach this weaker side. 
He takes the wish'd occasion, fills his hand 
With ready fires, and shakes a flaming brand. 
Urg'd by his presence, ev'ry soul is warm'd, 
And ev'ry hand with kindled fires is arm'd. 
From the fir'd pines, the scatt'ring sparkles fly 
Fat vapours, mix'd with flames, involve the sky. 
What pow'r, O Muses, could avert the flame, 
Which threaten'd in the fleet, the Trojan name . 
Tell : for, the fact, through length of time obscure, 
Is hard to faith ; yet shall the fame endure. 

'Tis said, that when the chief prepar'd his flight, 
And fell'd his timber from mount Ida's heigh;, 
9 



130 JENEIS. 

The grandame-goddess then approach'd her son, 
And with a mother's majesty begun: 
" Grant me (she said) the sole request I bring. 
Since conquered heav'n has own'd you for its king. 
On Ida's brows, for ages past, the.-e stood, 
With firs and maples nll'd, a shady wood ; 
And on the summit rose a sacred grove, 
Where 1 was worshipp'd with religious love. 
These woods, that holy grove, my long delight, 
I gave the Trojan prince, to speed his flight. 
Now, fiiPd with fear, on their behalf I come; 
Let neither winds o'erset, nor waves intomb, 
The floating forest of the sacred pine ; 
But let it be their safety to be mine." 
Then thus replied her awful son, who rolls 
The radiant stars, and heav'n and earth controls: 

How dare you, mother, endless date demand, 
For vessels moulded by a mortal hand ? 
What then is Fate ? shall bold ^Eneas ride, 
Of safety certain, on th' uncertain tide ? 
Vet, what I can, I grant: when, wafted o'er, 
The chief is landed on the Latian shore, 
Whatever ships escape the raging storms, 
At my command shall change their fading forms 
To nymphs divine, and plough the wat'ry way, 
Like Doto and the Daughters of the sea." 
To seal his sacred vow, by Styx he swore, 
The lake of liquid pitch, the dreary shore, 
And Phlegethon's innavigable flood, 
And the black regions of his brother-god. 
He said ; and shook the skies with his imperial nod. 

And now at length the number'd hours were come, 
Prefix'd by Fate's irrevocable doom, 
When the great mother of the gods was free 
To save her ships, and finish Jove's decree. 
First, from the quarter of the morn, there sprung 
A light that sign'd the heav'ns, and shot along ; 



£NFIS. 131 

Then from a cloud, fring'd round with golden fires, 
Were timbrils heard, and Berecynthian choirs ; 
And, last, a voice, with more than mortal sounds, 
Both hosts, in arms oppos'd, with equal horror wound* 
" O Trojan race ! your needless aid forbear ; 
And know,my ships are my peculiar care. 
With greater ease, the bold Rutulian may 
With hissing brands attempt to burn the sea, 
Than singe my sacred pines. But you, my charge, 
Loos' d from your crooked anchors, launch at large, 
Exalted each a nymph: forsake the sand, 
And swim the seas, at Cybele's command." 
No sooner had the goddess ceas'd to speak, 
When, lo ! th.' obedient ships their halsers break; 

And strange to tell, like dolphins, in the main 

They plunge their prows, and dive, and spring again. 

As many beauteous maids the billows sweep, 

As rode before tall vessels on the deep. 

The foes, surprised with wonder, stood aghast ; 

Messapus curb'd his fiery courser's haste : 

Old Tyber roar'd, and raising up his head, 

Call'd back his waters to their oozy bed. 

Turnus alone, undaunted, bore the shock, 

And with these words his trembling troops bespoke; 

" These monsters for the Trojans' fate are meant, 

And are by Jove for black presages sent. 

He takes the cowards' last relief away ; 

For fly they cannot, and constrain'd to stay, 

Must yield unfought, a base inglorious prey. 

The liquid half of ali the globe is lost; 

Heav n shuts the seas ; and we secure the coast. 

Theirs is no more than that small spot of ground, 

Which myriads of our martial men surround. 

Their fates I fear not, or vain oracles. 

' Twas giv'n to Veuus,they should cross the seas, 

And land secure upon tiie Latian plains: 

Their promis'd hour is pass'd and inme remains. 

'Tis in the fate of Turnus, to destroy. 

With sword and fire, the faithless rare of Troy. 



132 JENEIS. 

Shall such affronts as these, alone, inflame 

The Grecian brothers, and the Grecian name? 

My cause and theirs is one ; a fatal strife, 

And final ruin for a ravish'd wife. 

Was't not enough, that, punish'd for the crime, 

They fell— but will they fall a second time ? 

One would have thought they paid enough before, 

To cuise the cost.y sex, and durst offend no more. 

Can they securely trust their feeble wall, 

A slight partition, a thin interval, 

Betwixt their fate and them ; when Troy, though buil! 

By hands divine, yet perish'd by their guilt? 

Lend me, for once, my friends, your valiant hands, 

To force from out their lines, these dastard bands. 

Less than a thousand ships will end this war; 

Nor Vulcan needs his fated arms piepare. 

Let all the Tuscans, all th' Arcadians, join ! 

Nor these, nor tnose, shall frustrate my design. 

Let them not fear the treasons of the night, 

The robb'd Palladium, the pretended flight: 

Our onset shall be made in open light. 

No wooden engine shall their town betray: 

Fires they snail have around, but fires by day. 

No Grecian babes before their camp appear, 

Whom Hector's arms detained to the tenth tardy year, 

Now, since the sun is rolling to the west, 

Give we the silent night to needful rest: 

Refresh your bodies, and your arms prepare: 

The morn shall end the small remains of war." 
The post of honour to Messapus falls, 

To keep the nightly guard ; to watch the walls; 

To pitcli the fires at distances around, 

And close the Trojans in their scanty ground. 

Twice sev'n Rutulian captains ready stand ; 

And twice sev'u hundred horse these chiefs command. 

All clad in shining arms the works invest; 

Each, with a radiant helm, and waving crest. 



-ENEIS. KJ3 

StretcrTd at their length, they press the grassy ground t 
They laugh ; thev sing ; (the jolly bowls go round) 
With lights and cheerful tires renew the day, 
And pass the wakeful night in feasts and play. 

The Trojans from above, their foes beheld, 
And with arra'd legions ail the rampires fill'd, 
Seized with affright, their gates they first explore; 
Join works to works with bridges, tow'r to tow'r: 
Thus all things needful for defence abound : 
Mnestheus and brave Serestus walk the round 
Commission'd by their absent prince to share 
The common danger, and divide the care. 
The soldiers draw their lots, and, as they fall, 
By turns relieve each other on the wall. 

Nigh where the foes, their utmost guards advance, 
To watch the gate, was warlike Nisus' chance. 
His father Hyrtacus of noble blood ; 
Hi's mother was a huntress of the wood, 
And sent him to the wars. Well could he bear 
His lance in fight, and dart the flying spear, 
But better skili'd unerring shafts to send, 
Beside him stood Euryalus, his friend — 
Euryalus, tl.an whom the Trojan host 
No fairer face, or sweeter air, could boast. 
Scarce had the down to shade his cheeks begun. 
One was their care, and their delight was one. 
One common hazard in the war they shar'd ; 
And now were both by choice upon the guard. 

Then xNisus thus: " Or do the gods inspire 
This warmth, or make we gods of our desire? 
A gen'rous ardour boils within my breast, 
Eager of action, enefny to rest: 
This urges me to fight, and fires my mind, 
To leave a memorable name behind. 
Thou seest the foe secure ; how faintly shme 
Their scatter 1 d fires! the most, in sleep supine, 
Along the ground, an easy conquest lie. 
The wakeful few the fuming flaggon ply: 



134 JENEIS. 

All hush'd around. Now hear what I resolve — 

A thought unripe— and scarcely yet resolve. 

Out absent prince both camp and council mourn; 

By message both would hasten his return: 

If they confer what 1 demand, on thee, 

(For fame is recompense enough for me) 

Methinks, beneath yon hill, I have espied 

A way that safely will my passage guide." 

Euryalus stood listening while he spoke ; 

With love of praise, and noble envy struck; 

Then to his ardent friend expos'ri his mind: 

44 All this alone, and leaving me behind ! 

Am I unworthy, Nisus, to be join'd ? 

Think'st thou I can my share of glory yield, 

Or send thee unassisted to the field i 

Not so my father taught my childhood arms — 

Born in a siege, and bred among alarms. 

Nor is my youth unworthy of my friend, 

Nor of the heaven-born hero I attend. 

The thing call'd life, with ease I can disclaim, 

And think it over-so ] d to purchase fame." 

Then Nisus thus: 44 Alas! thy tender years 
Would minister new matters to my fears, 
So may the gods, wl> > view this friendly strife, 
Restore me to thy lov'd embrace with life. 
Condemn'd to pay my vows (as sure 1 trust) 
This thy request is cuel and unjust. 
But if some chance- as many chances are, 
And doubtful hazards, in the deeds of war — 
If one should reach rqy head, there let it fall, 
And spare thy life: 1 would not. perish all. 
Thy blooming youth deserves a longer date: 
Live thou to mourn t 4 iy love's unhappy fate, 
To bear my mangled body from the foe, 
Or buy it back, and fun'ral rites bestow. 
Or if hard fortune shall those dues deny, 
Thou canst at least a*i empty tomb supply. 



<£NEIS. 135 

O .' let not me the widow's tears renew ; 
Nor let a mother's curse my name pursue- 
Thy pious parent, who, for love of thee, 
Forsook the coasts of friendly Sicily, 
Her age committing to the seas and wind, 
When ev'ry »veary matron staid behind." 
To this, Eurya.us : " You plead in vain, 
And but protract the cause you cannot gain. 
No more delays ! but haste !" With that he wakes, 
The nodding watch : each to his office takes. 
The guard reliev'd, the gen'rous couple went 
To find the council at the royal tent. 
All creatures else forgot their daily care, 
And sleep, the common gift of natuie, share ; 
Except the Trojan peers, who wakeful sate 
In nightly council for the endanger'd state. 
They vote a message to their absent chief, 
Show their distress, and beg a swift relief. 
Amid the camp a silent seat they chose, 
Remote from clamour, and secure from foes. 
On their left arms their ample shields they bear, 
Their right inclin'd upon the bending spear. 
Now Nisus and his friend approach the guard, 
And beg admission, eager to be heard — 
Th' affair important, not to be deferr'd. 
Ascanius bids them be conducted in, 
Ord'ring the more experiene'd to begin. 
Then Nisus thus: " Ye fathers, lend your ears; 
Nor judge our bold attempt beyond our years. 
The foe, securely drench'd in sleep and wine, 
Neglect their watch ; the fires but thinly shine ; 
And, where the smoke in cloudy vapours fiies, 
Cov'ring the plain, and curling to the skies, 
Betwixt two paths which at the gate divide, 
Close >~v the s n u a passage we have spied, 
Whi'cn will our way to great /Eneas guide. 
Expect each hour to see him safe again, 
Loaded with spoils of foes in battle slain. 



136 MNLIS. 

Snatch we the lucky minute while we may : 
Nor can we be mistaken in the way ; 
For, hunting in the vales, we both have seen 
The rising turrets, and the stream between ; 
And know the winding course, with ev'ry ford." 
He ceas'd : and old Alethes took the word. 

"Our country gods, in whom our trust we place, 
Will yet from ruin save the Trojan race, 
While we behold such dauntless worth appear 
In dawning youth, and souls so void of fear." 
Then into tears of joy the father broke ; 
Each in his longing arms by, turns he took ; 
Panted and paus'd ; and thus again he spoke: 
** Ye brave young men, what equal gifts can we, 
In recompense of such desert, decree? 
The greatest sure, and best you can receive, 
The gods and your own conscious worth will give. 
The rest our grateful gen'ral will bestow, 
And young Ascanius, till his manhood, owe." 
" And I, whose welfare in my father lies, " 
Ascanius adds, " by the great deities, i 

By my dear country, by my household gods, • 
By hoary Vesta's riles and dark abodes, 
Adjure you both — (on you my fortune stands; 
That and my faith I plight into your hands) — 
Make me but happy in his safe return, 
Whose wanted presence I can only mourn ; 
Your common gift shall two large goblets be 
Of silver, wrought with curious imag'ry, 
And high emhoss'd, which when old Priam reign'd, 
My conquering sire at sack'd Arisba gain'd, 
And, more, two tripods cast in antique mould, 
With two great talents of the finest gold ; 
Beside a costly bowl, engravVi with art, 
Which Dido gave, when first she gave her heart. 
But, if in conquered Italy we reign, 
When spoils by \ot the victor shall obta — 



137 



Thou saw'st the courser by proud Turnus press'd, 
That Nisus ! and his arms, and nodding crest, 
And shield, from chance exempt, shall be thy share ; 
Twelve lab'ring slaves, twelve handmaids young 

and fair, 
All clad in rich attire, and train'd with care : 
And, last, a Latian field with fruitful plains, 
And a large portion of the King's domains, 
But thou whose years are more to mine allied, 
No fete my vow'd affection shall divide 
From thee, heroic youth ! Be wholly mine: 
Take full possession : all m) r soul is thine. 
One faith, one fame, and fate, shall both attend : 
My life's companion, and my bosom friend— 
IVly peace shail be committed to thy care; 
And, to thy conduct, my concerns in war." 

Then thus the young Euryalus replied : 
M Whatever fortune, good or bad, betide, 
The same shail be my age, as now my youth: 
No time shall find me wanting to my truth. 
This only from )'our goodness let me gain — 
(And, this ungranted, all rewards are vain ) 
Of Priam's royal race my mother came — 
And sure the best that ever bore the name — 
Whom neither Troy nor Sicily could hold 
From me departing, but, o'erspent and old, 
My fate she follow'd. Ignorant of this 
(Whatever )danger, neither parting kiss 
Nor pious blessing taken, her I leave, 
Ard in this only act of all my life deceive. 
By this right hand, and conscious night [ swear, 
My soul so sad a farewell could not bear. 
Be you her comfort ; fill my vacant place ; 
(Permit me to presume so great a grace ) 
Support her age, forsaken and distress'd. 
That hope alone will fortify my breast 
Against the worst of fortunes, and of fears." 
He said. The mov'd assistants melt in tears, 



138 JENEIS. 

Then thus Ascanius, wonderstruck to see 
That image of his filial piety ; 
" So great beginnings, in so green an age, 
Exact the faith which 1 again engage. 
Thy mother all the dues shall justly claim, 
Creiisa had, and only want the name. 
Whate'er event thy hold attempt shall have, 
'Tis merit to have born a son so brave. 
Now by my head, a sacred oath, I swear, 
(My father us'd it) what, returning here 
Crown'd with success, I for thyself prepare, 
That, if thou fail, shall thy lov'd mother share." 

He said, and weeping while he spoke the word, 
From his broad belt he drew a shining sword, 
Magnificent with gold. Lycaon made, 
And in an iv'ry scabbard sheath'd the blade. 
This was his gift. Great Mnestheusgave his friend 
A lion's hide, his body to defend ; 
And good Alethes furnish'd him beside, 
With his own trusty helm, of temper tried, 

Thus arm'd they went. The noble Trojans wait 
Their issuing forth, and follow to the gate 
With prayers and vows. Above the rest appears 
Ascanius, manly far beyond his years, 
And messages committed to their care, 
Which all in winds were lost, and flitting air. 

The trenches first they pass'd ; then took their way 
W T here their proud foes in pitch'd pavilhons lay; 
To many fatal, ere themselves were slain. 
They found the careless host dispers'd upon the plain, 
Who gorg'd and drunk with wine, supinely snore. 
Unharness'd chariots stand along the shore: 
Amidst the wheels and reins, the goblet by, 
A medley of debauch and war, they lie. 
Observing Nisus show'd his friend the sight: 
" Behold a conquest gain'd without a fight. 
Occasion offers ; and I stand prepard ; 
There lies our way : be thou upon the guard, 



JENEIS. 139 

And look around, while I securely go, 

And hew a passage through the sleeping foe ." 

Softly he spoke ; then, striding, took nis way, 

With his drawn sword, where haughty Rhamnes lay; 

His head rais'd high on tapestry beneath, 

And heaving from his breast, he drew his breath — 

A king and prophet, by king Turnus lov'd ; 

But fate by prescience cannot be remov'd. 

Him and his sleeping slaves he slew ; then spies 

Where Remus, with his rich retinue, lies. 

His armour-bearer first, and next he kills 

His charioteer, intrench'd betwixt the wheels 

And his lov'd horses: last invades their lord: 

Full on his neck he drives the fatal sword: 

The gasping head flies off; a purple flood 

Flows from the trunk, that welters in the blood, 

Which, by the spurning heels dispers'd around, 

The bed besprinkles, and bedews the ground. 

Lamus the bold, and Lamyrus the strong, 

He slew, and then Serranus fair and young. 

From dice and wine the youth retir'd to rest, 

And puff'd the fumy god from out his breast: 

E'en then he dream'd of drink and lucky play — 

More lucky, had it lasted 'till the day. 

The famish'd lion thus, with hunger bold, 
O'erleaps the fences of the nightly fold, 
And tears the peaceful flocks : with silent awe 
Trembling they lie, and pant beneath his paw. 

Nor with less rage Euryalus employs 
The wrathful sword, or fewer foes destroys: 
But on th* ignoble crowd his fury flew: 
He Fadus, Hebesus, and Rhoetus slew. 
Oppress'd with heavy sleep the former fall, 
But Rhoetus wakeful, and observing all : 
Behind a spacious jar he slink'd for fear: 
The fatal iron found and reach'd him there; 
For, as he rose, it pierc'd his naked side, 
And, reeking, thence return'd in crimson dy'd. 



HO jenkis. 

The wound pours out a stream of wine and blood 
The purple soul conies floating in the flood. 

Now, where Messapus quartered, they arrive. 
The lires were fainting there, and just alive: 
The warrior-horses, tied in order, fed. 
Nisus ohserved the discipline, and said: 
44 Our eager thirst of blood may both betray ; 
And see the scatter'd streaks of dawning day, 
Foe to nocturnal thefts. No more, my friend : 
Here let our glutted execution end. 
A lane through slaughter' d bodies we have made 
The bold Euryalus, though loth obey'd. 
Of arms and arras, and of plate they find 
A precious load ; but these they leave behind. 
Yet, fond of gaudy spoils, the boy would stay 
To make the rich caparison his prey, 
Which on the steed of conquer'd Rhamnes lay. 
Nor did his eyes less longingly behold 
The girdle-belt, with nails of burnish'd gold. 
This present Caedicus the rich bestow'd 
On Remulus, when friendship first they vow'd, 
And, absent, join'd in hospitable ties: 
He, dying, to his heir bequeathed the prize ; 
Till by the conqu'ring Ardean troops oppressed 
He fell ; and they the glorious gift possess'd. 
These glittering spoils (now made the victor's gain) 
He to his body suits, but suits in vain. 
Messapus' helm he finds among the rest. 
And laces on, and wears the waving crest. 
Proud of their conquest, prouder of their prey, 
They leave the camp, and take the ready way. 

But far they had not pass'd, before they spy'd 
Three hundred horse, with Yolscens for their guide, 
The queen a legion to king Turnus sent: 
Bufthe swift horse the slower foot prevent, 
A *d now, advancing, sought the leader's tent. 



JENEIS. 141 

T K ey saw the pair; for, through the doubtful shade, 

His shining helm Euryalus betrayM, 

On which the moon with full reflection play'd. 

" Tis not for nought," cried Volscens from the crowd , 

" These men go there:" then rais'd his voice aloud : 

" Stand ! stand ! why thus in arms? and whither bent? 

From whence, to whom, and on what errand sent?" 

Silent they scud away, and haste their flight 

To neighb'ring woods, and trust themsel es to night. 

The speedy horse all passages belay, 

And spur their smoking steeds to cross their way ; 

And watch each entrance of the winding wood, 

Black was the forest: thick with beech it stood, 

Horrid with fern, and intricate with thorn : 

Few paths of human feet, or tracks of beasts, were worn. 

The darkness of the shades, his heavy prey, 

And fear, misled the younger from his way. 

But Nisus hit the turns with happier haste, 

And, thoughtless of his friend, the forest pass'd, 

And, Alban plains (from Alba's name so calPd) 

Where king Latinus then his oxen stall'd ; 

Till, turning at the length, he stood his ground, 

And miss'd his friend, and cast his eyes around. 

44 Ah wretch !" he cried — " where have I left behind 

Th' unhappy youth ? where shall I hope to find? 

Or what way take ?" Again he ventures back. 

And treads the mazes of his former track. 

He winds the wood, and, list'ning, hears the noise 

Of trampling coursers, and the riders 1 voice. 

The sound approached ; and suddenly he view'd 

The foes inclosing, and his friend pursu'd, 

Forelaid and taken, while he strove in vain 

The shelter of the friendly shades to gain. 

What should he next attempt? what arms employ, 

What fruitless force to free the captive boy ? 

Or desp'rate should he rush, and lose his life, 

With odds oppress'd, in such unequal strife ! 



142 <£NEIS. 

Resolv'd at length, his pointed spear he shook ; 

And casting on the moon a mournful look. 

"Guardian of groves, and goddess of the night ! 

Fair queen !" he said, "direct my dart aright. 

If e'er my pious father for my sake, 

Did grateful off' rings on thy altars make, 

Or I increas'd them with my sylvan toils, 

And hung thy holy roofs with savage spoils, 

Give me to scatter these." Then from his ear 

He pois'd, and aim'd,and launched the trembling spear. 

The deadly weapon, hissing from the grove, 

Impetuous on the back of Sulmo drove ; 

Pierc'd his thin armour, drank his vital blood, 

And in his body left the broken wood. 

He staggers round : his eyeballs roll in death ; 

And, with short sobs, he gasps away his breath. 

All stand amaz'd :— a second jav'lin flies 

With equal strength, and quivers through the skies. 

This through thy temples, Tagus, forc'd the way, 

And in the brain pan warmly buried lay. 

Fierce Volscens foams with rage, and, gazing round, 

Descried not him who gave the fatal wound, 

Nor knew to fix revenge s " But thou," he cries, 

" Shalt pay for both," and at the pris'ner flies 

With his drawn sword. Then, struck with deep despair, 

That cruel sight the lover could not bear ; 

But from his covert rush'd in open view, 

And sent his voice before him as he flew: 

" Me ! me !" he cried — " turn all 3 T our swords alone 

On me— the fact confess'd, the fault my own. 

H>j neither could nor durst, the guiltless youth — 

Y<j moon and stars, bear witness to the truth ! 

His only crime (if friendship can offend) 

I? too much love to his unhappy friend." 

Too late he speaks: — the sword with fury guides, 

D/iv'n with full, force, had pierc'd his tender sides. 

Down fell the beauteous youth : the yawning wound 

Gush'd out a purple stream, and stain'd the ground. 



jENEIS. 143 

His snowy neck reclines upon his breast, 
Like a fair flow'r by the keen share oppressed — 
Like a white poppy sinking on the plain, 
Whose heavy head is overcharg'd with rain. 
Despair and rage, and vengeance justly vow'd, 
Drove Nisus headlong on the hostile crowd. 
Volscens he seeks ; on him alone he bends ; 
Bom back and bor'd by his surrounding friends, 
Onward he press'd, and kept him still in sight, 
Then whirl' d aloft his sword with all his might: 
Th' unerring steel descended while he spoke, 
Pierc'd his wide mouth, and through his weazon broke. 
Dying he slew ; and stagg'ringon the plain, 
With swimming eyes he sought his lover slain; 
Then quiet on his bleeding bosom fell, 
Content, in death, to be reveng'd so well. 

O happy friends ! for, if my verse can givt* 
Immortal life, your fame shall ever live. 
Fix'd as the Capitol's foundation lies, 
And spread, where'er the Roman eagle flies? 

The conq'ring party first divide the prey, 
Then their slain leader to the camp convey. 
With wonder, as they went, the troops were fill'd, 
To see such numbers whom so tew had kill'd. 
Sarranus, Rhamnes, and the rest they found : 
Vast crowds the dying and the dead surround ; 
And the yet reeking blood o'erflows the ground. 
All knew the helmet which Messapus lost, 
But mourn'd a purchase that so dear had cost. 
Now rose the rudy morn from Tithon's bed, 
And with the dawn of day the skies o'erspread: 
Nor long the sun his daily course withheld, 
But added colours to the world revealM . 
When early Turnus, wak'ning with the light, 
All clad in armour, calls his troops to fight. 
His martial men with fierce harrangues he fir'J, 
And his own ardour in their sc,u\> mspirM. 



144 JENEIS. 

This done — to give new terror to his foes, 
The head of Nisus and his friend he shows, 
Rais'd high on pointed spears — a ghastly sight! 
Loud peals of shouts ensue, and barbarous delight. 
Meantime the Trojans run, where danger calls : 
They line their trenches, and they man their walls 
In front extended to the left they stood : 
Safe was the right, surrounded by the flood. 
But, casting from their tow'rs a frightful view, 
They saw the faces, which too well they knew, 
Though then disguis'd in death, and smear'd all o'er 
With filth obscene, and dropping putrid gore. 
Soon hasty fame through the sad city bears 
The mournful message to the mother's ears. 
An icy cold benumbs her limbs: she shakes: 
Her cheeks the blood, her hand the web forsakes. 
She runs the rampires round amidst the war, 
Nor fears the flying darts: she rends her hair, 
And fills with loud laments the liquid air. 
44 Thus then my lov'd Euryalus appears ! 
Thus looks the prop of my declining years ! 
"YVas't on this face my famish'd eyes I fed? 
Ah ! how unlike the living is the dead ! 
And couldst thou leave me, cruel, thus alone? 
Not one kind kiss from a departing son ! 
No look, no last adieu, before he went, 
In an ill-boding hour to slaughter sent! 
Cold on the ground, and pressing foreign clay, 
To Latian dogs and fowls he lies a prey ! 
Nor was I near to close his dying eyes, 
To wash his wounds, to weep his obsequies 
To call about his corpse his crying friends, 
Or spread the mantle (made for other ends) 
On his dear body, which I wove with care, 
Nor did my daily pains 01 nightly labour spare. 
Where shall I find his corpse ? what earth sustains 
His trunk dismember'd. and his cold remains? 



JENEIS. 145 

For this, alas ! I left my needful ease, 
Exposed my life to winds, and winter seas ! 
If any pity touch Rutulian hearts, 
Here empty all your quivers, all your darts s 
Or, if they fail, thou, Jove, conclude my wo, 
And send me thunder-struck to shades below." 

Her shrieks and clamours pierce the Trojans' ears, 
Unman their courage, and augment their fears: 
Nor young Ascanius could the sight sustain, 
Nor old llioneus his tears restrain, 
Hut Actor and Idaeus jointly sent, 
To bear the madding mother to her tent. 
And now the trumpets terribly, from far, 
With rattling clangour rouse the sleepy war. 
The soldiers' shouts succeed the brazen sounds ; 
And heav'n from pole to pole the noise rebounds. 
The Volscians bear their shields upon their head, 
And, rushing forward, form a moving shed, 
These fill the ditch ; those pull the bulwarks down. 
Some raise the ladders ; others scale the town. 
But, where void spaces on the walls appear, 
Or thin defence, they pour their forces there. 
With poles and missive weapons, from afar 
The Trojans kept aloof the missive war. 
Taught by their ten years' siege defensive fight, 
And roll down ribs of rocks, an unresisted weight, 
To break the penthouse with the pond'rous blow, 
Which yet the patient Volscians undergo — 
But could not bear th 1 unequal combat long; 
For, where the Trojans find the thickest throng, 
The ruin falls: their shatter' d shields give way, 
And their crush'd heads become an easy prey. 
They shrink for fear, abated of their rage, 
Nor longer dare in a blind fight engage — 
Contented now to gall them from below, 
With darts and slings, a id with the distant bow. 

Elsewhere Mezentius, terrible to view, 
A blazing pine within the trenches threw. 

VOL. II. 10 



146 MNEIS 

But brave Messapus, Neptune's warlike son, 
Broke down the palisades, the trenches won, 
And loud for ladders calls, to scale the town. 

Calliope, begin ! ye sacred Nine, 
Inspire your poet in his high design, 
To sing what slaughter manly Turnus made, 
What souls he sent below the Stygian shade, 
What fame the soldiers with their captain share, 
And the vast circuit of the fatai war: 
For you, in singing martial facts, excel ; 
You best remember, and alone can tell. 

There stood a tower amazing to the sight, 
Built up of beams, and of stupendous height: 
Art, and the nature of the place, conspir'd, 
To furnish all the strength that war requir'd. 
To level tins the bold Italians join ; 
The wary Trojans obviate their design ; 
With weighty stones o'erwhelm their troops below, 
Shoot through the loopholes, and sharp jav'lins throw. 
Turnus the chief, tossY! from his thund'ring hand, 
Aa^s/ the wooden walls, a flaming brand : 
It stuck, tne nery plague: the winds were high; 
The planks were season'd and the timber dry. 
Contagion caught the posts ; it spread along, 
Scorch'd and to distance drove, the scatter'd throng. 
The Trojans fled : the fire pursued amain, 
Still gathering fast upon the trembling train ; 
Till, crowding to the corners of the wall, 
Down the defence and the defenders fall. 
The mignty flaw makes heav'n itself resound: 
The dead and dying Trojans strew the ground. 
The tow'r, that ibllow'd on the fallen crew, 
Whelm'd o'er their heads, and buried whom it slew. 
Some stuck upon the darts themselves had sent; 
All the same equal ruin underwent. 

Young Lycus and Helenor only 'scape ; 
Sav'd— how > the v know not— from the steepy >eap, 



*;neis. 147 

Helenor, elder of the two: by birth, 
On one side royal, one a son of earth, 
Whom to the Lydian king, Lycimnia bare, 
And sent her boasted bastard to the war: 
(A privilege which none but freemen share.) 
Slight were his arms, a sword and silver shield.* 
No marks of honour charg'd its empty field. 
Light as he fell, so light the youth arose, 
And, rising, found himself amidst nis foes ; 
Nor flight was left, nor hopes to force his way. 
Embolden'd by despair, he stood at bay; 
And, like a stag, whom all the troop surrounds 
Of eager huntsmen and invading hounds — 
Resolv'd on death, he dissipates his fears, 
And bounds aloft against the pointed spears: 
So dares the youth, secure of death ; and throws 
His dying body on his thickest foes. 

But Lycus. swifter of his feet by far, 
Runs, doubles, winds, and turns, amidst the war : 
Springs to the walls, and leaves his foes behind, 
And snatches at the beam he first can find ; 
Looks up, and leaps aloft at all the stretch, 
In hopes the helping hand of some kind friend to rea h ; 
But Turnus follow'd hard his hunted prey, 
(His spear had almost reach'd him in the way, 
Short of his reins, and scarce a span behind) 
" Fool !" said the chief, " tho' fleeter than the wind, 
Couldst thou presume to 'scape, when I pursue?" 
He said, and downward by the feet he drew 
The trembling dastard s at the tug he falls : 
Vast ruins come along, rent from the smoking walla. 
Thu? on some silver swan, or tim'rous hare, 
Jove's bird conies sousing down from upper air; 
Her crooked talons truss the fearful prev : 
Then out of sight she soars, and wings nei «vay. 
So seizes the grim wolf the tendei lamb, 
In vain lamented by the bleating data. 



148 £NEIS. 

J 'hen rusning onward with a barbarous cry, 
The troops of Turnus to the combat fly. 
The c'itch with faggots fill'd, the daring foe 
Toss' a firebrands to the steepy turrets throw. 

Uioneus, as bold Lucetius came 
To force the gate, and ieed the kindling flame, 
RolPd down the fragment of a rock so right, 
It crush'd him double underneath the weight. 
Two more young Liger and Asylus slew ; 
To bend the bow young Liger better knew ; 
Asylus best the pointed jav'lin threw. 
Brave Csneus laid Ortygius on the plain ; 
The victor Caeneus was by Turnus slain. 
By the same hand, Clonius and Itys fall, 
Sagar, and Idas standing on the wall. 
From Capys' arms, his fate Privernus found: 
Hurt by Themilla first — but slight the wound,— 
His shield thrown by, to mitigate the smart, 
He ciapp'd his hand upon the wounded part: 
The second shaft came swift and unespied, 
And pierc'd his hand and nail'd it to his side, 
Transfix' d his bleeding lungs, and beating heart: 
The soul came issuing out, and hiss'd against the dart: 

The son of Arcens shone amid the rest, 
In glitt'ring armour and a purple vest, 
(Fair was his face, his eyes inspiring love) 
Bred by his fathei in the Martian grove, 
Where the fat altars of Peltcus flame, 
And sent in arms to purchase early fame. 
Him when he spied, from far, the Tuscan king 
Laid by the lance, and took him to the sling, 
Thrice whirl'd the thong around his head, and threw: 
The heated lead half melted as it flew : 
It pierc'd his hollow temples and his brain ; 
The youth came tumbling down, and spurn'd the pl?»>K 

Then young Ascanius, who, before this day, 
Was wont in woods to shoot the savage prey, 
First bent in martial strife, the twanging bow, 
And exercis'd against a human foe — 



JENEI8. 149 

With this bereft Numanus of his life, 
Who Turnus' younger sister took to wife. 
Proud of his realm, and of his royal bride, 
Vaunting before his troops, and lengthened with & 

stride, 
In these insulting terms the Trojan he dened : 
" Twice conquer'd cowards ! now your shame is 

shown — 
Coop'd up a second time within your town ! 
Who dare not issue forth in open field, 
But hold your walls before you for a shield. 
Thus treat you war ? thus our alliance force ? 
What gods, what madness hither steer' a your course ? 
You shall not find the sons of Atreus here, 
Nor need the frauds of sly Ulysses fear. 
Strong from the cradle, of a sturdy brood, 
We bear our new-born infants to the flood ; 
There bath'd amid the stream, our boys we hold, 
With winter harden'd, and inur'd to cold. 
They wake before the day to range the wood, 
Kill ere they eat, nor taste unconquer'd food. 
No sports, but what belong to war they know — 
To break the stubborn colt, to bend the bow. 
Our youth, of labour patient, earn their bread ; 
Hardly they work with frugal diet fed. 
From ploughs and harrows sent to seek renown, 
They fight in fields, and storm the shaken town. 
No part of life from toils of war is free, 
No change in age or difPrence in degree. 
We plough and till in arms: our oxen feel, 
Instead of goads, the spur and pointed steel: 
Th' inverted lance makes furrows in the plain. 
E ? en time, that changes all, yet changes us in vain— 
The body, not the mind — nor can control 
Th T immortal vigour, or abate the soul. 
Our helms defend the young, disguise the gray: 
We live by plunder, and delight in prey. 



150 £NE1S. 

Your vests embroider'd with rich purple shine ; 

In slotii you glory, and in dances join. 

Four vests have sweeping sleeves ; with female pride, 

Your turbans underneath your chins are tied. 

Go, Phrygians, to your Dindymus again! 

Go. less than women, in the shapes of men! 

Go! mix'd with, eunuchs in the mother's lites, 

(Where with unequal sound the flute invites) 

Sing, dance and howl, by turns in Ida's shade: 

Resign the war to men, who know the martial trade." 

This foul reproach Ascanius could not bear 
With patience, or a vow'd revenge forbear. 
At the full stretch of both his hands, he drew, 
And almost join'd, the horns of the tough yew. 
But first before the throne of Jove he stood, 
And thus with lifted hands invoked the god: 
"My first attempt, great Jupiter, succeed ! 
An annual offering in thy grove shall bleed, 
A snow-white steer, before thy altar led, 
Who, like his mother, bears aloft his head, 
Butts with his threatening brows, and bellowing stands, 
And dares the fight, and spurns the yellow sands." 

Jove bow'd the heav'ns, and lent a gracious ear, 
And thunder 1 d on the left, amidst the clear. 
Sounded at once the bow ; and swiftly flies 
The feather'd death, and hisses through the skies. 
The steel through both his temples fore d the way: 
Extended on the ground, Numanus lay. 
" Go now, vain boaster ! and true valour scorn ! 
The Phrygians, twice subdu'd, yet make this third re- 
turn." 
Ascanius said no more. The Trojans shake 
The heav'ns with shouting, and new vigour take 

Apollo then bestrode a golden cloud, 
To view the feats of arms, and fighting crowd ; 
And thus the beardless victor he bespoke aloud : 
*' Advance, illustrious youth ! increase in fame. 
And wide from east to west, extend thy name— 



JENEIS. 151 

Offspring of gods thyself; and Rome shall owe 
To thee a race of demigods below. 
This is the way to hcav'vi s the pow'rs divine 
From this beginning date the Julian line. 
To thee, to them, and their victorious heirs, 
The conquer'd war is due 5 and the vast world is theirs. 
Troy is too narrow for thy name." He said, 
And plunging downward shot his radiant head ; 
Dispell'd the breathing air, that broke his flight-; 
Shorn of his beams, a man to mortal sight, 
02d Butes' form he took, Anchiscs' squire, 
Now left to rule Ascanius, by his sire: 
His wrinkled visage, and his hoary hairs, 
His mien, his habit, and his arms he wears, 
And thus salutes the boy, too forward for his years: 
14 Suffice it thee, thy father's worthy son, 
The warlike prize thou hast ahead}' won. 
The god of archers gives thy youth a part 
Of his own praise, nor envies equal art. 
Now tempt the war no more " He said, and flew 
Obscure in air, and vanish'd from their view. 
The Trojans, by his arms, their patron know, 
And hear the twanging of his heavenly bow. 
Then duteous force they use, and Phoebus' name, 
To keep from fight the youth too fond of fame. 
Undaunted, they themselves no dangers shun : 
From wall to wall, the shouts and clamours run: 
They bend their bows ; they whirl their slings around: 
Heaps of spent arrows fall, and strew the ground ; 
And helms, and shields, and rattling arms resound. 
The combat thickens, like the storm that flies 
From westward, when the show'ry Kids arise ; 
Dr patt'ring hail comes pouring on the main, 
When Jupiter descends in harden'd rain, 
Dr bellowing clouds burst with a stormy sound, 
^nd with an armed winter strew the ground. 
Pand'rus and Bitias, thunder-bolts of war, 
A 7 horn Hiera to bold Alcanor bore, 



152 MNEIS. 

On Ida's top— two youths of height and size 

LiKe firs that on their mother-mountain rise — 

Presuming on their force, the gates unbar, 

And of their own accord invite the war, 

With fates averse, against their king's command, 

Arm'd, on the right and on the left, they stand, 

And flank the passage: shining steel they wear, 

And waving crests above their heads appear. 

Tims two tail oaks, that Padus' banks adorn, 

Lift up to heav'n their leafy heads unshorn, 

And, everpress'd with nature's heavy load, 

Dance to the whistling winds, and at each other nod, 

In flows a tide of Latians, when they see 

The gates set open, and the passage free: 

Bold Quercens, with rash Tmarus rushing on, 

Equicolus,, who in bright armour shone, 

And Hcemon first: but soon repuls'd they fly, 

Or in the well-deiended pass they die. 

These with success are fir'd, and those with rage ; 

And each on equal terms at length engage. 

Drawn from their lines, and issuing on the plain, 

The Trojans hand to hand the fight maintain. 

Fierce Turnus in another quarter fought, 
When suddenly th' unhop'd-for news was brought, 
The foes had left the fastness of their place, 
Prevail'd in fight, and had his men in chase. 
He quits th' attack, and, to prevent their fate, 
Runs, where the giant brothers guard the gate. 
The first he met, Antiphates the brave, 
f But base begotten on a Theban slave — 
Sarpedon's son) he slew: the deadly dart 
Found passage thro' his breast, and piere'd his heart. 
Fix'd m the wound th' Italian cornel stood, 
Warm'd in his lungs, and in his vital blood. 
Aphidnus next, and Erymanthus dies, 
And Meropes, and the gigantic size 
Of Bitias, threatening with his ardent eyes 



jeneis. 153 

Not by the feeble dart he fell oppress'd, 

(A dart were lost within his roomy breast) 

But from a knotted lance, large, heavy, strong 

Which roar'd like thunder as it whirPd along ; 

Not two bull-hides th' impetuous force withhold, 

Nor coat of double mail, with scales of gold. 

Down sunk the monster bulk, and press'd the ground, 

(His arms and clatt'ring shield on the vast body sound.) 

Not with less ruin than the Eaian mole, 

Rais'd on the seas, the surges to contiol — 

At once comes tumbling down the rocky wall ; 

Prone to the deep, the stones disjointed fall 

Of the vast pile \ the scatter'd ocean flies ; 

Black sands, discolour'd froth, and mingled mud, arise, 

The frighted billows roll, and seek the shores: 

Then trembles Prochyta, then Ischia roars: 

Typhosus, thrown beneath by Jove's command, 

Astonish'd at the flaw that shakes the land, 

Soon shifts his weary side, and, scarce awake, 

With wonder feels the weight press lighter on his back. 

The warrior god the Latian troops iuspir'd, 
And strung their sinews, and their courage fir'd, 
But chills the Trojan hearts with cold affright : 
Then black despair precipitates their flight. 

When Pandarus beheld his brother kilFd, 
The town with fear and wild confusion nll'd, 
He turns the hinges of the heavy gate 
With both his hands, and adds his shoulders to the 

weight; 
Some happier friends within the walls inclos'd ; 
The rest shut out, to certain death expos'd ; 
Fool as he was, and frantic in his care, 
T' admit young Turnus, and include the war ; 
He thrust amid the crowd, securely bold, 
Like a fierce tiger pent amid the fold. 
Too late his blazing buckler they descry, 
And sparkling tires that shot from either eye, 



154 £NEIS. 

His mighty members, and his ample breast, 

His rattling armour, and his crimson crest* 

Far from that hated lace the Trojans fly, 

All but the fool who sought his destiny. 

Mad Pandarus steps forth, with vengeance vow'd 

For Bitias' death, and threatens thus aloud: 

44 These are not Ardea's walls, nor this the town 

Amata profers with Lavinia's crown : 

'Tis hostile earth you tread. Of hope bereft, 

No means of safe return by flight are left." 

To whom, with countenance calm, and soul sedate, 

Thus Turnus: 44 Then begin ; and try thy fate: 

My message to the ghost of Priam bear; 

Tell him a new Achilles sent thee there." 

A lance of tough ground ash the Trojan threw, 
Rough in the rind, and knotted as it grew: 
With his full force he whhTd it first around; 
But the soft yielding air receiv'd the wound: 
lmperialJuLO turn'd the course before, 
And fix'd the wand'ring weapon in the door. 
44 But hope not thou," said Turnus, "when I strike, 
To shun thy fate: our force is not alike, 
Nor thy steel tempered by the Lemnian god." 
Then rising, on his utmost stretch he stood, 
And aim'd from high : the full descending blow 
Cleaves the broad front, and beardless cheeks in avo. 
Down sinks the giant with a thund'ring sound : 
His pond'rous limbs oppress the trembling ground ; 
Blood, brains, and foam, gush from the gaping 

wound. 
Scalp, face, and shoulders, the keen steel dhides; 
And the shar'd visage hangs on equal sides. 
The Trojans fly from their approaching fate: 
And, had the victor then secur'd the gate, 
And, to his troops without, unelos'd the bars, 
One lucky day had ended all his wars. 
But. boiling youth, and blind desire of blood, 
Push on his fury, to pursue the crowd. 



JENEIS. 155 

Hamstring**! behind, unhappy Gyges died- 
Then Pbaiaris is added ic his sine. 
The pointed jav'lins from the dead he drew, 
And then friends 1 arms against their fellows threw. 
Strong Haiys stands in vain ; weak Phegeus flies: 
Saturnia, still at hand, new force and lire supplies. 
Then Balms, Prytanis, Alcander fall — 
Engaged against the foes who scal'd the wall: 
But whom they fear'd without, ihey found within. 
At last, though late, by Lynceus he was seen. 
He calls new succours, and assaults the prince: 
But weak his force, and vain is their defence. 
Turn'd to the right, his sword the hero drew, 
And at one blow the bold aggressor slew. 
He joints the neck: and with a stroke so strong, 
The helm flies off, and bears the head along. 
Next him, the huntsman, Amyous, he kill'd, 
In darts envenornM, and in poison skill'd. 
Then Clytius fell beneath his fatal spear, 
And Creteus, whom the Muses held so dear: 
He fought with courage, and he sung the fight: 
Arms were his bus'ness, verses his delight. 

The Trojan chiefs behold, with rage and grief, 
Their slaughtered friends, and hasten their relief. 
Bold Mnestheus rallies first the broken train, 
Whom brave Serestus and his troops sustain. 
To save the living and revenge the dead, 
Against one warrior's arm all Troy they led. 
"O, void of sense and courage !" Mnestheus cried, 
" Where can you hope your coward heads to hide? 
Ah ! where beyond these rampires can you run ? 
One man, and in your camp inclos'd, you shun ! 
Shall then a single sword such slaughter boast, 
And pass unpunish'd from a num'rous host? 
Forsaking honour, and renouncing fame, 
Your gods, your country, and your king, you shame!** 

This just reproach their virtue does excite: 
They stand, they join, they thicken to the fight. 



156 jENEIS. 

Now Turnus doubts, and yet disdains to yield, 
But with slow paces measures back the field, 
And inches to the walls, where Tyber's tide, 
Washing the camp, defends the weaker side. 
The more he loses, they advance the more, 
And tread in every step he trod before. 
They shout; they bear him back; and whom by mighi 
They cannot conquer, they oppress with weight. 

As, compass'd with a wood of spears around, 
The lordly lion still maintains his ground ; 
Grins horrible, retires, and turns again ; 
Threats his distended paws, and shakes his mane: 
He loses while in vain he presses on, 
Nor will his courage let him dare to run : 
So Turnus fares, and, unresolv'd of flight, 
Moves tardy back, and just recedes from fight. 
Yet twice enrag'd, the combat he renews, 
Twice breaks, and twice his broken foes pursues. 
But now they swarm, and with fresh troops supplied, 
Come rolling on, and rush from every side: 
Nor Juno, who sustained his arms before, 
Dares with new strength suffice th' exhausted store ; 
For Jove, with sour commands, sent Iris down, 
To force th' invader from the frighted town. 

With labour spent, no longer can he wield «*• 
The heavy falchion, or sustain the shield, 
O'erwhelm'd with darts, which from afar they fling 
The weapons round his hollow temples ring : 
His golden helm gives way with stony blows 
Batter'd and flat, and beaten to his brows. 
His crest is rash'd away ; his ample shield 
Is falsified, and round with jav'iins fill'd. 

The foe, now faint, the Trojans overwhelm ; 
And Mnestheus lays hard load upon his helm. 
Sick sweat succeeds, he drops at ev'ry pore ; 
With driving dust his cheeks are pasted o'er; 
Shorter and shorter ev'ry gasp he takes ; 
And vain efforts and h artless blows he mak* 



JENE1S. 1S7 

Arm'd as lie was, at length he leap'd from high, 
Phing'd in the flood, and made the waters fly. 
The yellow god the welcome burden bore. 
And wip'd the sweat, and wash'd away the gore; 
Then gently wafts him to the farther coast. 
And sends him safe to cheer his anxious noft. 



& N E I S. 



BOOK X. 



ARGUMENT. 

Jupiter, calling a council of the gods, forbids them to engage 
in either party. AtiEneas' return there is a bloody baitle: 
Turnus killing Pallas ; iEneas, Laustis and Mezentius. Me- 
zentius is described as an atheist ; Lausus as a pious and vir 
tuous youth. The different actions and death of these two 
are the subject of a noble episode. 



1 HE gates of heav'n unfold : Jove summons all 
The gods to council in the common hall. 
Sublimely seated, he surveys from far 
The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war, 
And all th 1 inferior world. From first to last, 
The sov'reign senate in degrees are plac'd. 

Then thus the almighty sire began : u Ye gods, 
Natives or denizens of blest abodes! 
From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind, 
This backward fate from what was first design'd? 
Why this protracted war, when my commands 
Pronounc'd a peace, and gave the Latian lands? 
"What fear or hope on either part divioes, 
Our heav'ns, and arms our powers on different sides? 
A lawful time of war at length will co.ne, 
(Nor need your haste anticipate the doom) 
When Carthage shall contend the world with Romej 
Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains, 
And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains. 



JENEIS. 159 

Then is your time for faction and debate, 
For partial favour, and permitted hate. 
Let now your immature dissension cease: 
Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace." 

Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge: 
But lovely Venus thus replies at large: 
"O pow'r immense ! eternal energy ! 
(For to what else protection can we fly ? 
See'st thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare 
In fields, unpunish'd, and insult my care? 
How lofty Turnus vaunts amidst his train, 
In shining arms triumphant on the plain ? 
E'en in their lines and trenches they contend ; 
And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend: 
The town is filPd with slaughter, and o'erfloats, 
With a red deluge, their increasing moats. 
iEneas, ignorant, and far from thence, 
Has left a camp expos'd, without defence. 
This endless outrage shall they still sustain? 
Shall Troyrenew'd, be forc'd and hYd again? 
A second siege mv banish'd issue fears ; 
And a new Diomede in arms appears. 
One more audacious mortal will be found ; 
And I, thy daughter, wait another wound. 
Yet, if, with fates averse, without thy leave, 
The Latian lands my progeny receive, 
Bear they the pains of violated law, 
And thy protection from their aid withdraw 
But, if the gods their sure success foretell — 
If those of heaven consent with those of hell, 
To promise Italy ; who dare debate 
The pow'r of J owe, or fix another fate? 
V\ hat should I tell of tempests on the main, 
Of Jiolus usurping Neptune's reign ? 
Of Iris sent, with Bacchanalian heat 
T' mspire the matrons, and destroy the fleet ? 
Now Juno to the Stygian sky descends, 
Solicits hell for aid and arms the fiends, 



160 iENEIS 

That new example wanted vet above — 

An act that well became the wife of Jove I 

Alecto, raisM by her, witn rage inflames 

The peaceful bosoms of the Lalian dames. 

Imperial sway no more exalts my mind* 

(Such hopes [ had indeed, while heav'n was kind) 

Now let my happier foes possess my place, 

Whom Jove prefers before the Trojan race; 

And conquer they whom you with conquest grace. 

Since you can spare, from all your wide command, 

No spot of earth, no hospitable land, 

Which may my wand'ring fugitives receive ; 

(Siroe haughty Juno will not give )'ou leave) 

The.\, father, (if I still may use that name) 

By rcin'd Troy, yet smoking from the flame, 

I beg you, let Ascanius, by my care, 

Be freed from danger and dismiss'd the war: 

Inglorious let him live, without a crown: 

The father may be cast on coasts unknown, 

Struggling with fate ; but, let me save the son. 

Mine is Cythera, mine the Cyprian tow'rs : 

In those recesses, and those sacred bow'rs, 

Obscurely let him rest ; his right resign 

To promis'd empire, and his Julian line. 

Then Carthage may th' Ausonian towns destroy, 

Nor fear the race of a rejected boy. 

What profits it my son, to 'scape the fire, 

Arm'd with his gods, and loaded with his sire; 

To pass the perils of the seas and wind • 

Evade the Greeks, and leave the war behind ; 

To reach th' Italian shores ; if, after all, 

Our second Pergamus is doomed to fall? 

Much better had he ciwrb'd his high desires, 

And hover* d o'er his ill-extin^uish'd fires. 

To SimoTs 1 banks the fugitives restore 

And give them back to war, and all the woes before. 

Deep indignation swelled SaturnuTs heart: 
* And must I own," she said, " my secret smart— 



JF.NEIS. 161 

What with more decence were in silence kept 

And, but for this unjust reproach, had slent ? 

Did god or man your fav'rite son advise, 

With war unhop'd the Latians to surprise 

By fate, you boast, and by the gods' decree, 

He left his native land for Italy ; 

Confess the truth ; by mad Cassandra, more 

Than heav'n, inspired, he sought a foreign shore. 

Did 1 persuade to trust his second Troy 

To the raw conduct of a beardless boy, 

With walls unfinish'd, which himself forsakes, 

And through the waves a wand'ring voyage takes t 

When have I urgM him meanly to demand 

The Tuscan aid, and arm a quiet, land? 

Did I or Iris give this mad advice ? 

Or made the fool himself the fatal choice? 

You nink it hard, the Latians should destroy 

Witn swords your Trojans, and with fires your Troy 

Hard and unjust indeed, lor men to draw 

Their native air, nor take a foreign law! 

That Turnus is permitted still to live, 

To whom his birth, a god and goddess give * 

But yet 'tis just and lawful for your line 

To drive their fields, and force with fraud to join : 

Realms, not your own, among your clans divide 

And from the bridegroom tear the prornis'd bride 

Petition, while you public arms prepare ; 

Pretend a peace, and yet provoke a war 

'Twas giv'n to you, your darling son to snioud, 

To draw the dastard from the fighting crowd, 

And, lor a man, obtend an empty cloud. 

From flaming fleets you turu'd the fire away. 

And changed the ships to daughters of the sea. 

But 'tis my crime— th \ queen of heav'n offends, 

If she presume to save her suffring friends ! 

Your son, not knowing what his foes decree, 

Von say, is absent: absent let him be. 

*»L II 11 



162 jEneis. 

Yours is Cythera, yours the Cyprian tow'rs, 
The soft recesses, and the sacred bow'rs. 
Why do you then these needless arms prepare. 
And thus provoke a people prone to wai C 
Did I with fire the Trojan town deface. 
Or hinder from return your exil'd race? 
Was I the cause of mischief, or the man, 
Whose lawless lust the fatal war began ? 
Think on whose faith th' adulterous youth relied ; 
Who promis'd, who procur'd the Spartan bride? 
When all th' united states of Greece combinYl, 
To purge the world of the perfidious kind, 
Then was your time to fear the Trojan fate: — 
Your quarrels and complaints are now too late." 

Thus Juno. Murmurs rise, with mix'd applause, 
Just as they favour or dislike the cause*. 
So winds, when yet unfledg'd in woods they lie, 
In whispers first their tender voices try, 
Then issue on the main with bellowing rage, 
And storms to trembling mariners presage. 

Then thus to both replied th' imperial god, 
Who shakes heav'n's axles with his awful nod. i 
(When he begins, the silent senate stand, 
With rev'rence list'ning to the dread command : 
The clouds dispel ; the winds their breath restrain; 
And the hush'd waves lie flatted on the main.) 
" Celestials ! your attentive ears incline ! 
Since (said the god) the Trojans must not join 
In wish'd alliance with the Ldtian line — 
Since endless jarrings and immortal hate 
Tend but to discompose our happy state — 
The war henceforward be resign'd to fate. 
Each to his proper fortune stand or fall : 
Equal and imconcern'd I look on all. 
Hutulians, Trojans, are the same to me ; 
And both shall draw the lots their fates decree. 
Let these assault, if Fortune be their friend ; 
Ann if she favours those, let those defend : — 



-ENEIS. 163 

The Fates will find their way." The Thund'rcr said 
And shook the sacred honours of his head, 
Attesting Styx, th 1 inviolable flood, 
And the black regions of his brother god. 
Trembled the poles of heav'n ; and earth confessed 

the nod. 
This end the sessions had : the senate rise, 
And to his palace wait their sovereign thro' the skies, 

Meantime, intent upon their siege, the foes, 
Within their walls, the Trojan host inclose : 
They wound, they kill, they watch at ev'ry gate ; 
Renew the fires, and urge their happy fate. 

Th' Queans wish in vain their wonted chief, 
Hopeless of flight, more hopeless of relief. 
Thin on the tow'rs they stand ; and ev'n those few, 
A feeble, fainting, and dejected crew, 
Vet in the face of danger some there stood: 
The two bold brothers of Sarpedon's blood, 
Asius, and Acmon: both th' Assaraci; 
Young Hsemon, and, though young, resolv'd to die 
With these were Clams and Thymoetes join'd ; 
Tybns and Caster, both of Lycian kind. 
From Acmon's hands a rolling stone there came, 
So large, it half deserv'd a mountain's name ! 
Strong-sinew'd was the youth, and big of bone : 
His brother Mnestheus could not more have done, 
Or the great father of th 1 intrepid son. 
Some firebands throw, some flights of arrows send , 
And some with darts, and some with stones, defend 
Amid the press appears the beauteous boy, 
The care of Venus, and the hope of Troy. 
Kis lovely face unarm'd, his head was bare ; 
In ringlets o'er his shoulders hung his hair. 
His forehead circled with a diadem : 
Distinguished from the crowd, he shines a gem, 
Enchas'd in gold, or polish'd iv'ry set, 
Amidst the meaner foil of sable jet. 



164 .ENEIS. 

Nor Ismarus was wanting to the war, 
Directing ointed arrows from afar, 
And death with poison arm'd — in Lydia born, 
Where plenteous harvests the fat fields adorn ; 
Where proud Pactolus floats the fruitful lands, 
And leaves a rich manure of golden sands. 
There Capys, author of the Capuan name, 
And there was Mnestheus too, increas'd in fame, 
Since Turnus from the camp he cast with shame. 

Thus mortal war was wag'd on either side. 
Meantime the hero cuts the nightly tide: 
For, anxious, from Evander when he went, 
He sought the Tyrrhene camp, and Tarchon's tent, 
Expos'd the cause of coming to the chief; 
His name and country told, and ask'd relief; 
Propos'd the terms; his own small strength declar'd; 
What vengeance proud Mezeutius had piepar'd ; 
What Turnus, bold and violent, desigif d ; 
Then show'd the slipp'ry state of human-kind, 
And fickle fortune ; wam'd him to beware, 
And to his wholesome council added pray'r. 
Taichon, without delay, the treaty signs, 
And to the Trojan troops the Tuscan joins. 

They soon set sail ; nor now the Fates withstand ; 
Their forces trusted with a foreign hand. 
iEneas leads : upon his stern appear 
Two lions carv'd, which rising Ida bear — 
Ida, to wand'ring Trojans ever dear. 
Under their grateful shade iEneas sate, 
Revolving war's events, and various fate, 
His left young Pallas kept, fix'd to his side, 
And oft of winds inquir'd, and of the tide: 
Oft of the stars, and of their wat'ry way ; 
And what he suffered both by land and sea. 

Now, sacred sisters, open ail your spring ! 
The Tuscan leaders, and their army, sing, 
Which followed great JEneas to the war: 
Their arms, their numbers, and their names, declare. 



iENEIS. H6 

A thousand 3'ouths brave Massicus obey, 
Borne in the Tiger through the foaming sea; 
From Chisuim brought, and Cosa, by his care: 
For arms, light quivers, bows and shafts, they bear. 
Fierce Abas next: his men bright armour wore: 
His stern Apollo's golden statue bore. 
Six hundred Populonia sent along, 
All skill'd in martial exercise, and strong. 
Three hundred more for battle Ilva joins, 
An isle renown'd for steel, and unexhausted mines. 
Asylas on his prow the third appears, 
Who heav'n interprets, and the wand'ring stars ; 
From offer'd entrails, prodigies expounds, 
And peals of thunder, with presaging sounds. 
A thousand spears in warlike order stand, 
Sent by the Pisans, under his command. 
Fair Astur follows in the wat'ry field, 
Proud of his manag'd horse, and painted shield 
Gravisca, noisome from the neighb'ring fen, 
And his own CaBre, sent three hundred men, 
With those which Minio's fields, and Pyrgi gave; 
All bred in arms, unanimous and brave. 

Thou, Muse, the name of Cinyras renew, 
And brave Cupavo follow'd but by few ; 
Whose helm confess' d the lineage of the man, 
And bore, with wings display'd, a silver swan. 
Love was the fault of his fam'd ancestry, 
Whose forms and fortunes in his ensign fly. 
ForCycnus lov'd unhappy Phaeton, 
And sung his loss in poplar groves, alone, 
Beneath the sister shades, to sooth his grief. 
Heav'n heard his song, and hasten'd his relief, 
And changed to snowy plumes his hoary hair, 
And wing'd his flight, to chant aloft in air. 
His son Cupavo brush'd the briny flood: 
Upon his stern a brawny centaur stood, 
Who heav'd a rock, and threatening still to throw, 
With lifted hands alarm'd the seas below ■ 



166 JENEIS. 

They seem'd to fear the formidable sight, 
AnH roll'd their billows on, to speed his flight 

Ocnus was next, who led his native train 
Of hardy warriors, through the wat'ry plain— 
The son of Manto, by the Tuscan stream, 
From whence the Mantuan town derives the name— 
An ancient city, but of mix'd descent: 
Three sev'ral tribes compose the government; 
Four towns are under each ; but all obey 
The Mantuan laws, and own the Tuscan sway. 

Hate to Mezentius arm'd five hundred more, 
Whom Mincius from his sire Benacus bore — 
Mincius, with wreaths of reeds his forehead coverM 

o'er. 
These grave Aulestes leads: a hundred sweep 
With stretching oars at once the glassy deep. 
Him, and his martial train, the Triton bears: 
High on his poop the sea-green god appears: 
Frowning he seems his crooked shell to sound ; 
And at the blast the billows dance around. 
A hairy man above the waist he shows; 
A porpoise-tail beneath his belly grows; 
And ends a fish ; his breast the waves divides; 
And froth and foam augment the murm'ring tides. 

Full thirty ships transport the chosen train, 
For Troy's relief, and scour the briny main. 

Now was the world forsaken by the sun, 
And Phoebe half her nightly race had run. 
The careful chief, who never clos'd his eyes, 
Himself the rudder holds, the sails supplies. 
A choir of Nereids meet him on the flood, 
Once his own galleys, hewn from Ida's wood : 
But now, as many nymphs, the sea they sweep, 
As rode before tall vessels on the deep. 
They know him from afar : and in a ring 
Enclose the ship that bore the Trojan king. 
Cymodoce, whose voice excell'd the rest, 
Above the waves advanc'd her snowy breast; 



jENEIS. 167 

Her right hand stops the stern, her left divides 

The curling ocean, and corrects the tides. 

She spoke for all the choir, and thus began 

With pleasing words to warn th' unknowing man: 

" Sleeps our iov'd lord ? O goddess- born ! awake ! 

Spread ev'ry sail, pursue your wat'ry track, 

And haste your course. Your navy once were we, 

From Ida's height descending to the sea ; 

Till Tumus, as at anchor flx'd we stood, 

Presum'd to violate our holy wood. 

Then, loos'd from shore, we fled his fires profane, 

(Unwillingly we broke our master's chain) 

And since have sought you through the Tuscan 

main. 
The mighty Mother chang'd our forms to these, 
And gave us life immortal in the seas. 
But young Ascanius, in his camp distressed, 
By your insulting foes is hardly press'd. 
Th' Arcadian horsemen, and Etruran host, 
Advance in order on the Latian coast: 
To cut their way the Daunian chief designs, 
Before their troops can reach the Trojan lines. 
Thou, when the rosy morn restores the light, 
First arm thy soldiers for th' ensuing fight* 
Thyself the fated sword of Vulcan wield, 
And bear aloft th 1 impenetrable shield. 
To-morrow's sun, unless my skill be vain, 
Shall see huge heaps of foes in battle slain." 
Parting she spoke ; and with immortal force 
Push'd on the vessel in the wat'ry course ; 
For well she knew the way. ImpellM behind, 
The ship flew forward, and outstript the wind. 
The rest make up. Unknowing of the cause 
The chief admires their speed, and happy omens draws. 
Then thus he pray'd, and fix'd on heav'n his eyes: 
u Hear thou, great Mother of the deities, 
With turrets crow n'd ! (on Ida's holy hill, 
Fierce tigers, reiii'd and curb'd, obey thy will.) 



168 vENEIS. 

Finn thy own omens ; lead us on to fight ; 
And let thy Phrygians conquer in thy right." 

He said no more. And now renewing day 
Had chas'd the shadows of the night away. 
He charg'd the soldiers, with preventing care, 
Their flags to follow, and their arms prepare ; 
Warn'd of uY ensuing fight, and bade them hope 
the war. 

Now, from his lofty poop, he view'd below 
His camp encompass'd and th' inclosing foe. 
His blazing shield embraced, he held on high: 
The camp receive the sign, and with loud shouts reply. 
Hope arms their courage: from their tow'rs they throw 
Their darts with double force, and drive the foe. 
Thus, at the signal giv'n, the cranes arise 
Before the stormy south, and blacken all the skies. 

King Turnus wonder'd at the fight renewed, 
Till, looking back, the Trojan fleet he view'd, 
The seas with swelling canvass coverM o'er, 
And the swift ships descending on the shore. 
The Latians saw from far, with dazzled eyes, 
The radiant crest that seem'd in flames to rise, 
And dart diffusive fires around the field ; 
And the keen glittering of the golden shield. 

Thus threat'ning comets, when by night they rise, 
Shoot sanguine streams, and sadden all the skies: 
So Sirius, flashing forth sinister lights, 
Pale human-kind with plagues and with dry famine 

frights. 
Yet Turnus with undaunted mind is bent, 
To man the shores and hinder the descent, 
And thus awakes the courage of his friends: 
14 What you so long have wish'd, kind Fortune sends— 
Iw ardent arms to meet th' invading foe : 
You find, and find bim at advantage now. 
Yours is the day: you need but only dare: 
Your swords will make you masters of the war 



JENE1S. 169 

Your sires, your sons, your houses, and your lands, 
And dearest wives, are all within your hands. 
Be mindful of the race from whence you came, 
And emulate in arms, your father's fame. 
Now take the time, while staggering yec they stand 
With feet unfirm ; and prepossess the strand : 
Fortune befriends the bold." No more he said, 
But balanc'd whom to leave, and whom to lead; 
Then these elects, the landing to prevent ; 
And those he leaves to keep the city pent. 

Meantime the Trojan sends his troops ashore: 
Some are by boats expos'd,by bridges more. 
With laboring oars they bear along the strand, 
Where the tide languishes, and leap a-land. 
Tarclion observes the coast with careful eyes, 
And, while no ford he finds, no "water fries, 
Nor billows, with unequal murmurs roar, 
But mostly slide along, and swell the shore, 
That course he steer'd, and thus he gave command: 
" Here ply your oars, and at all hazard land : 
Force on the vessel, that her keel may wound 
This hated soil, and furrow hostile ground. 
Let me securely land — I ask no more ; 
Then sink my ships, or shatter on the shore." 

This fiery speech inflames his fearful friends: 
They tug at ev'ry oar, and ev'ry stretcher bends: 
They run their ships aground : the vessels knock, 
(Thus forc'd ashore) and tremble with the shock. 
Tarchon's alone was lost, and stranded stood : 
Stuck on a bank, and beaten by the flood, 
She breaks her back ; the looscn'd sides give way, 
And plunge the Tuscan soldiers in the sea. 
Their broken oars and floating planks withstand 
Their passage, while they labour to the land : 
And ebbing tides bear back upon t.h' uncertain sand. 

NowTurnus leads his troops without dela}* - , 
Advancing to the margin of the sea. 
The trumpets sound : ^Eneas first assail'd 
The clowns new rais'd and raw ; and soon prevailed. 



170 JENEIS. 

Great Theron fell, an omen of the fight — 
Great Theron, large of limbs, of giant height. 
He first in open fields defied the prince : 
But armour scal'd with gold, was no defence 
Against the fated sword, which open'd wide 
His plated shield, and peirc'd his naked side. 
Next Lichas fell, who, not like others born, 
Was from his wretched mother ripp'd and torn ; 
Sacred, O Phoebus ! from his birth to thee ; 
For his beginning life from biting steel was free. 
Not far from him was Gyas laid along, 
Of monstrous bulk ; with Cissues fierce and strong: 
Vain bulk and strength ! for, when the chief assaiPd, 
Nor valour, nor Herculean armsavaiPd, 
Nor their fam'd father, wont in war to go 
With great Alcides, while he toil'd below. 
The noisy Pharos next receiv'd his death : 
iEneas writh'd his dart, and stopp'd his bawling breath. 
Then wretched Cydon had receiv'd his doom, 
Who courted Clytius in his beardless bloom, 
And sought with lust obscene polluted joys — 
The Trojan sword had cur'd his love of boys, 
Had not his sev'n bold brethren stoppM the course 
Of the fierce champion, with united force. 
Sev'n darts were thrown at once; and some rebound 
From his bright shield, some on his helmet sound. 
The rest had reach'd him ; but his mother's care 
Prevented those, and turn'd aside in air. 

The prince then call'd Achates, to supply 
The spears, that knew the way to victory — 
" Those fatal weapons, which, inur'd to blood, 
In Grecian bodies under Ilium stood : 
Not one of those my hand shall toss in vain 
Against our foes on this contended plain." 
He said : then seiz'd a mighty spear, and threw, 
Which, wing'd with fate, through Mseon's buckler flew 
Peirc'd all the brazen plates, and reach'd his heart: 
**e stagger'd with intolerable smart 



JENEIS. 171 

Alcanor saw ; and reach'd, but reached in vain, 
His helping hand, his brother to sustain. 
A second spear, which kept the former course, 
From the same hand, and sent with equal force, 
His right arm pierc'd, and, holding on, bereft 
His use of both, and pinion'd down his left. 
Then Numitor from his dead brother drew 
Th' ill-omen'd spear, and at the Trojan threw : 
Preventing fate directs the lance awry, 
Which, glancing, only mark'd Achates' thigh. 
In pride of yor*h the Sabine Clausus came, 
And, from afar, at Diyops took his aim, 
The spear flew hissing through the middle space, 
And pierc'd his throat, directed at his face: 
It stopp'd at once the passage of his wind, 
And the free soul to flitting air resign'd : 
His forehead was the firs* that struck the ground ; 
Life-blood and life rush'd mingled through the wound. 
He slew three brothers of the Borean race, 
And three, whom Ismarus, their native plaee, 
Had sent to war, but all the sons of Thrace. 
Halesus, next, the bold Aurunci leads: 
The son of Neptune to his aid succeeds, 
Conspicuous on his horse. On either hand, 
These fight to keep, and those to win, the land, 
With mutual jlood th' Ausonian soil is dy'cl, 
While on its borders, each their claim decide. 

As wintry winds, contending in the sky, 
With equal force of lungs their titles try: 
They rage, they roar: the doubtful rack of heavn 
Stands without motion, and the tide undriv'n: 
Each bent to conquer, neither side to yield, 
They long suspend the fortune of the field. 
Both armies thus perform what courage can; 
•^oot set to foot, and mingled, man to man. 

But in another part th' Arcadian horse 
W 7 ith ill success engage the Latian force: 



172 JENEIS. 

For, where the impetuous torrent rushing down, 

Huge craggy stones and rooted trees had thrown, 

They left their coursers, and, unus'd to fight 

On foot, were scatter'd in a shameful flight. 

Pallas, who, with disdain and grief, had viewM 

His foes pursuing, and his friends pursu'd, 

Us'd threat'nings mlx'd with pray'rs, his last resource, 

With these to move their minds, with those to tire their 

force. 
" Which way, companions? whither would you run? 
By you yourselves, and mighty battles won, 
By my great sire, by his establish'o name, 
An early promise of my future fame: 
By my youth, emulous of equal right 
To share his honours — shun ignoble flight ! 
Trust not your feet: your hands must hew your way 
Through yon black body, and that thick array: 
'Tis through that forward path that we must come: 
There lies our way, and that our passage home: 
Nor pow'rs above nor destinies below, 
Oppress our arms, with equal strength we go, 
With mortal hands to meet a mortal foe. 
See on what foot we stand ! a scanty shore — 
The sea behind, our enemies before : 
No passage left, unless we swim the main ; 
Or, forcing these,the Trojan trenches gain." 
This said, he strode with eager haste along, 
And bore amidst the thickest of the throng. 
Lagus, the first he met, with fate to foe, 
Had heav'd a stone of mighty weight, to throw 
Stooping, the spear descended on his chine, 
Just where the bone distinguish'd either loin: 
It stuck so fast, so deeply buried lay, 
That scarce the victor forc'd the steel away. 

Hisbon came on : but, while he mov'd too slow 
To wish'd revenge, the prince prevents his blow ; 
For, warding his at once, at once he press'd, 
And plung'd the fatal .weapon in his breast. 



JENEIS. 173 

Then lewd Anchemolus he laid in dust, 
Who stain'd his stepdame's bed with impious lust. 
And, after him, the Daunian twins were slain, 
Laris and Thymbrus, on the Latian plain , 
So wond'rous like in feature, shape and size, 
\s caus'd an error in their parent's eyes — 
3rateful mistake ! but soon the sword decides 
The nice distinction, and their fate divides: 
For Thymbrus' head was lopp'd; and Laris' hand, 
Dismembered, sought its owner on the strand: 
The trembling fingers yet the falchion strain, 
And threaten still th' extended stroke in vain. 

Now, to renew the charge, th' Arcadians came ; 
Sight of such acts, and sense of honest shame, 
And grief, with anger mix'd, their minds inflame. 
Then, with a casual blow was Rhoeteus slain, 
Who chane'd, as Pallas threw, to cross the plain: 
The flying spear was after Ilus sent: 
But Rhoeteus happened on a death unmeant: 
From Theuthras and from Tyies, while he fled, 
The lance, athwart his body, laid him dead : 
Roll'd from his chariot with a mortal wound, 
And intercepted, fate, he spurn'd the ground. 

As when in summer, welcome winds arise, 
The watchful shepherd to the forest flies, 
And fires the midmost plants; contagion spreads, 
And catching flames infect the neighb'nng heads; 
Around the forest flies the furious blast, 
And all the leafy nation sinks at last; 
And Vulcan rides in triumph o'er the waste 
The pastor, pleat 'd with his dire victory, 
Beholds the satiate flames in sheets ascend the sky ;— 
So Dallas' troops their scatter'd strength unite, 
Aiid, pouring on their foes, their prince delight. 

rilalesus came, fierce with desire of blood: 
But first collected in his arms he stood: 
Advancing then, he plied the spear so well, 
La don, Demodocus, and Pheres fell. 



174 jEneis 

Around his nead he toss'd his glitt'rmg brand, 
And from Strymonius hew'd his better hand, 
Held up to guard his throat ; then hurl'd a stone 
At Thoas' ample front, and pierc'd the bone: 
It struck beneath the space of either eye : 
And blood, and mingled brains, together fly. 
Deep skill'd in future fates, Helesus sire 
Did with the youth to lonely groves retire : 
Rut, when the father's mortal race was run, 
Dire destiny laid hold upon the sou, 
And haul'd him to the war, to find, beneath 
Th' Evandrian spear, a memorable death. 
Pallas th' encounter seeks, but, ere he throws, 
To Tuscan Tyber, thus address'd his vows: 
" O sacred stream ! direct my flying dart, 
And give to pass the proud Halesus' heart. 
His arms and spoils thy holy oak shall bear." 
PleasVl with the bribe, the god receiv'd his pray'r ; 
For, while his shield protects a friend distress'd, 
The dart came driving on and pierc'd his breast. 

But Lausus, no small portion of the war, 
Permits not panic fear to reign too far, 
Caus'd by the death of so renown'd a knight ; 
But by his own example cheers the fight. 
Fierce Abas first he slew— Abas, the stay 
Of Trojan hopes, and hind'rance of the day. 
The Phrygian troops escap'd the Greeks in vain: 
They, and their mix'd allies, now load the plain. 

To the rude shock of war both armies came: 
Their leaders equal, and their strength the same. 
The rear so press'd the front, they could not wield 
Their angry weapons, to dispute the field. 
Here Pallas urges on, and Lausus there : 
Of equal youth and beauty both appear, 
Both by fate forbid to breathe their native air. 
Their congress in the field great Jove whistands — 
Soth doora'd to fall, and tall by greater hands. 



^NKIS. 175 

Meantime Juturna warns the Daimiau chief 
Of Lausus' danger, urging swift relief. 
With his driv'n chariot he divides the crowd, 
And making to his friends, thuscails aloud: 
" Let none presume his needless aid to join : 
Retire, and clear the field : the light is mine : 
To this right hand is Pallas only due: 
O ! w 7 ere his father here, my just revenge to view !" 
From the forbidden space his men retir'd. 
Pallas their awe, and his stern words, admir'd ; 
Survey'd him o'er and o'er with wond'ring sight, 
Struck with his haughty mien, and tow'ring height: 
Then to the king: " Your empty vaunts forbear: 
Success I hope ; and fate I cannot fear. 
Alive, or dead, I shall deserve a name: 
Jove is impartial, and to both the same." 
He said, and to the void advanc'd his pace. 
Pale horror sate on each Arcadian face. 
Then Turnus, from his chariot, leaping light, 
Address'd himself on foot to single fight. 
And, as a lion — when he spies from far 
A bull that seems to meditate the war, 
Bending his neck, and spurning back the sand — 
Runs roaring downward from his hilly stand : 
Imagine eager Turnus not more slow, 
To rush from high on his unequal foe. 

Young Pallas, when he saw the chief advance 
Within due distance of his flying lance, 
Prepares to charge him first — resolv'd to try 
If fortune would his want of force supply ; 
And thus to heav'n and Hercules address'd: 
" Alcides, once on earth Evander's guest ! 
His son adjures thee, by those holy rites, 
That hospitable board, those genial nights, 
Assist my great attempt to gwin this prize, 
And let proud Turnus vieiv , y f With dying eyes, 
His ravishM spoils." 'Twas heard, the vain request; 
Alcides mourn'd, and stiffled sighs within his breast. 



176 JENKIS. 

Then T o.*e, to sooth his sorrow, thus began: 

44 Short bounds of life are set to mortal man. 

'Tis virtue's work alone to stretch the narrow span. 

So many sons of gods, in bloody fight 

Around the walls of Troy, have lost the light: 

My own Sarpedon tell beneath his foe ; 

Nor I, his mighty sire, could ward the blow. 

E'en Turnus shortly shall resign his breath, 

And stands already on the verge of death.'* 

This said, the god permits the fatal fight, 

But from the Latian fields averts his sight. 

Now with full force his spear young Pallas threw ; 
And, having thrown, his shining falchion drew, 
The steel just graz'd along the shoulder-joint, 
And mark'd it slightly with the glancing point. 
Fierce Turnus first to nearer distance drew, 
And pois'd his pointed spear, before he threw: 
Then as the winged weapon whizz'd along, 
" See now," said he, ** whose arm is better strung. 
1 he spear kept on the fatal course, unstay'd 
By plates of ir'n, which o'er the shield were laid : 
Through folded brass, and tough bull-hides, it pass'd, 
His corslet pierc'd, and reach'd his heart at last, 
[n vain the youth tugs at the broken wood: 
The soul comes issuing with the vital blood : 
He falls: his arms upon his body sound : 
And with his bloody teeth he bites the ground. 

Turnus bestrode the corpse: ** Arcadians, hear," 
Said he : " my message to your master bear : 
Such as the sire deserv'd, the son I send i 
It costs him dear to be the Phrygian's friend. 
The lifeless body, tell him, I bestow 
Unask'd, to rest his wand'ring ghost below." 
He said, and trampled down, with all the force 
Of his left foot, and spurn*' 1 the wretched corse ; 
Then snatch'd the shmin i g°oelt, with gold inlaid- - 
The belt Eurytion's artful hancis had made ; 



£NEIS. 177 

YW** fifty fatal brides, express'd to sight, 
All k* the compass of one mournful night, 
Depro.H their bridegrooms of returning light. 

fn a** ill hour insulting Turnus tore 
Those p^lden spoils, and in a worse he wore. 
O mortal? ! blind in fate/ who never know 
To bear nigh fortune, or endure the low ! 
The time r-hall come, when Turnus, but in vain, 
Shall wisi* untouched the trophies of the slain — 
Shall wisl the fatal belt were far away, 
And curst *he dire remembrance of the day. 

The sac Arcadians, from th' unhappy field, 
Bear back he breathless body on a shield. 

grace aiid grief of war ! at once restor'd, 
With praise, to thy sire, at once deplor'd. 
One (iay fns^ sent thee to the lighting field, 
Beheld who»e heaps of foes m battle kili'd ; 
One day behold thee dead, and borne upon thy 

shield, 
This dismal news, not from uncertain fame, 
But sad spectators, to the hero came: 
Mis friends upon the brink of ruin stand, 

1 niessreliev'd by his victorious hand. 

He whirls His sword around, without delay, 
And hews through adverse foes an ample way, 
To find fierce Turnus, of his conquest proud. 
Evander, Palias, all that friendship ow'ci 
To large deserts, are present to his ey?a — 
His plighted hand, and hospitable ties. 

Four sons of Sulmo, four whom Ufens bred, 
He took in fight, and living victims led, 
To please the ghost of Pallas, and expire, 
In sacrifice, hetore his fun'ral fire. 
A r Magus next he threw : he stoop'd below 
l ne flying spear, and shunn'd the prcmis'd blow, 
Then creeping, clasp 1 d the hpro r s knees, and prayM: 
By young lulus, by thy father's shade, 
O ! spare my life, and send me back to see 



178 JENEIS 

O ! spare in)*- life, and send me ba'ck to see 

My longing sire, and tender progeny. 

A lofty house I have, and wealth untold, 

In silver ingots, and in bars of gold : 

All these, and sums besides, which see no day. 

The ransom of this one poor life shall pay. 

If I survive, will Troy the less prevail t 

A single soul's too light to turn the scale." 

He said. The hero sternly thus replied : 

" Thy bars and ingots, and the sums beside, 

Leave for thy children's lot. Thy Turnug broke 

All rules of war by one relentless stroke, 

When Pallas fell: so deems, nor deems alone, 

My father's shadow, but my living son." 

Thus having said, of kind remorse bereft, 

He seiz'd his helm, and dragg'd him with his left; 

Then with his right hand, while his neck he wreath'd, 

Up to the hilts his shining falchion sheathV 

Apollo's priest, Haemonides, was near: 
His holy fillets on his front appear ; 
Glitt'ring in arms, he shone amidst the crowd. 
Much of his god, more of his purple, proud. 
Him the fierce Trojan follow'd through the field: 
The holy coward fell ; and, forc'd to yield, 
The prince stood o'er the priest, and, at one blow, 
Sent him an ofPnng to the shades below, 
His arms Serestus on his shoulders bears, 
Design'd a trophy to the god of wars. 

Vulcanian Calculus renews the fight, 
And Urnbro, born upon the mountain's height. 
The champion cheers his troops t' encounter those, 
And seeks revenge himself on other foes. 
At Anxur's shield he drove; and, at one blow, 
Both shield and arm to ground together go. 
Anxur had boasted much of magic charms. 
And thought he wore impenetrable arms, 
So made by mutter' d spell ; and, from the spheres. 
Had life secur'd, in vain, for tength uf years 



JENEIS. 179 

Then Tarqultus the field in triumph trod ; 
A nymph his mother, and his sire a god. 
Exulting in bright arms, he braves the prince: 
With his protended lance he makes defence ; 
Bears back his feeble foe ; then, pressing on, 
Arrests his better hand, and drags him down ; 
Stands o'er the prostrate wretch, and (as he lay, 
Vain tales inventing, and prepafd 10 pray) 
Mows off his head : the trunk a moment stood, 
Then sunk, and roll'd along the sand in blood. 
The vengeful victor thus upbraids the slain: 
" Lie there, proud man, unpity'd on the plain: 
Lie there, inglorious, and without a tomb, 
Far from thy mother and thy native home, 
Expos'd to savage beasts, and birds of prey, 
Or thrown for food to monsters of the sea." 

On Lycasand Antaeus next he ran, 
Two chiefs of Turn us, and who led his van. 
They fled for fear; with these, he chas'd along 
Camers the yellow-lock'd, and Nuniia strong, 
Both great in arms; and both were fair and young. 
Camers was son to Volscens, lately slain, 
In wealth surpassing all the Latian train, 
And in Amyclte fix'd his silent easy reign. 
And, as iEgseon, when with heav'n he strove, 
Stood opposite in arms to mighty Jove; 
Mov'd all his hundred hands, provokM the war, 
Defied the forky lightning from afar ; 
At fifty mouths his flaming breath expires, 
And flash for flash returns, and fires for fires; 
In his right hand as many swords he wields, 
And takes the thunder on as many shields-. 
With strength like his, the Trojan hero stood ; 
And soon the fields with falling crops were strow'd, 
When once his falchion fo-md the taste of blood. 

With fury scarce to be conceived, he flew 
Against Niphieus, whom four coursers drew. 



180 JENE1S. 

They, when they see the fiery chief advance, 
And pushing at their chests his pointed lance, 
WheelM with so swift a motion, mad with fear, 
They threw their master headlong from the chair. 
They stare, they start, nor stop their course, before 
They bear the bounding chariot to the shore. 

Now Lucagus and Lig-^r scour the plains, 
With two white steeds ; but Liger holds the reins, 
And Lucagus the lofty seat maintains — 
Bold brethren both. The former wav'd in aii 
His flaming sword : iEneas couch'd his ^pear, 
Unus'd to threats, and more unus'd to fear. 
Then Liger thus: " Thy confidence is vain 
To 'scape from hence, as from the Trojan plain: 
Nor these the steecis which Diomede bestrode, 
Nor this the chariot where Achilles rode: 
Nor Venus' veil is here, nor Neptune's shield: 
Thy fatal hour is come ; and this the field." 
Thus Liger vainly vaunts: the Trojan peer 
Return'd his answer with his flying spear. 
As Lucagus, to lash his horses, bends 
Prone to the wheels, and his left loot protends, 
Prepar'd for fight — the fatal dart arrives, 
And through the border of his buckler drives; 
Pass'd thro' and pierc'd his groin. The deadly wound, 
Cast from his chariot, roll'd him on the ground : 
Whom thus the chief upbraids with scornful spite 
" Blame not the slowness of your steeds in flight: 
Vain shadows did not force their swift retreat ; 
But you yourself foresake your empty seat." 
He said, and seiz'd at once the loosen'd rein: 
For Liger lay already on the plain 
By the same shock : then, stretching out his hand, 
The recreant thus his wretched life demands : 
"Now, by thyself, more than mortal man ! 
By her and him from whom thy breath began, 
Who form'd thee thus divine, I beg thee, spare 
This forfeit life, and hear thy suppliant's pray'r." 



iENEIS. 181 

Thus much he spoke, and more he would have said, 
But the stern hero turn'd aside his head, 
And cut him short: ** I hear another man: 
You talk'd not thus before the fight began. 
Now take your turn ; and, as a brother should, 
Attend your brother to the Stygian flood." 
Then through his breast his fatal sword he sent ; 
And the soul issued at the gaping vent. 
As storms the skies, and torrents tear the ground. 
Thus rag'd the prince, and scatter'd deaths around. 
At length Ascanius, and the Trojan train, 
Broke from the camp, so long besieg'd in vain. 
Meantime the king of gods, and mortal man, 
Held conf'rence with his queen, and thus began: 
"My sister goddess, and well pleasing wife, 
Still think you Venus 1 aid supports the strife- 
Sustains her Trojans — or themselves, alone, 
With inborn valour force their fortune on ? 
How fierce in fight, with courage undecay'd ! 
Judge if such warriors want immortal aid." 
To whom the goddess with the charming eyes, 
Soft in her tone, submissively replies: 
" Why, O my sov'reign lord, whose frown T fear, 
And cannot, unconcern'd, your anger bear- 
Why urge you thus my grief ? when if 1 still 
(As once I was) were mistress of your will, 
From your almighty pow'r your pleasing wife 
Might gain in' grace of lengthening Turnus' life, 
Securely snatch him from the fatai fight, 
And give him to his aged father's sight. 
Now let him perish, since you hold it good, 
And glut the Trojans with his pious blood. 
Yet from our lineage he derives his name, 
And, in the fourth degree, from god Pilumnus came ! 
Yet he devoutly pays you rites divine, 
And offers daily incense at your shrine." 
Then shortly thus the sov'reign god replied : 
" Since in my pow'r and goodness you confide, ( 



182 iENEIS. 

If, for a little space, a lengthen'd span, 

You beg reprieve for this expiring man, 

I grant, you leave to take your Turnus hence 

From instant fate, and can so far dispense. 

But, if some secret meaning lies beneath, 

To save the short-liv'd youth from destin'd death, 

Or, if a farther thought you entertain, 

To change the fates; you feed your hopes in vain. 1 ' 

To whom the goddess thus, with weeping eyes: 
" And what if that request, your tongue denies, 
Your heart shall grant — and not a short reprieve, 
But length of certain life, to Turnus give f 
Now speedy death attends the guiltless youth, 
If my presaging soul divines with truth ; 
Which, O ! i wish might err, through causeless fears, 
And you (for you have pow'r) prolong his years !" 

Thus having said, involv'd in clouds, she flies, 
And drives a storm before her through the skies. 
Swift she descends, alighting on the plain, 
Where the fierce foes, a dubious light maintain. 
Of aircondens'd, a spectre soon she made; 
And, what .Eneas was, such seein'd the shade. 
Adorn'd with Dardan arms, the phantom bore 
His head aloft ; a plumy crest tie wore : 
This hand appear'd a shining sword to wield 
And that sustain'd an imitated shield. 
With manly mien he stalk'd along the ground, 
Nor wanted voice belied, nor vaunting sound. 
(Thus haunting ghosts appear, to waking sight, 
Or dreadful visions in our dreams by night.) 
The spectre seems the Daunian chief to dare, 
And flourishes his empty sword in air. 
At this, advancing, Turnus hurFd his spear: 
The phantom wheePd, and seem'd to fly for fear. 
Deluded Turnus thought the Trojan fled, 
And with vain hopes his haughty fancy fed. 
41 Whither, O coward ?" (thus he calls aloud, 
Nor tound he spoke to wind, and chas'd a cloud) 



JENEIS. 183 

" Why thus forsake your bride ? Receive from me 
The fated land you sought so long by sea." 
He said, and brandishing at once his blade, 
With eager pace pursu'd the flying shade. 
By chance, a ship was fasten d to the shore, 
Which from old Clusium king Osinius bore: 
The plank was ready laid for safe ascent; 
For shelter there the trembling shadow bent, 
And skipp'd, and skulk'd, and under hatches went: 
Exulting Turnus, with regardless haste, 
Ascends the plank, and to the galley passed. 
Scarce had he reach'd the prow, Saturnia's hand 
The halsers cuts, and shoots the sl/ip from land. 
With wind in poop, the vessel ploughs the sea, 
And measures back with speed her former way. 
Meantime iEneas seeks his absent foe, 
And sends his slaughter 7 d troops to shades below. 
The guileful phantom now forsook the shroud, 
And flew sublime, and vanish'd in a cloud. 
Too late young Turnus the delusion found, 
Far on the sea, still making from the ground. 
Then, thankless for a life redeem'd by shame, 
With sense of honour stung, and forfeit fame, 
Fearful besides of what in fight had pass'd, 
His hands and haggard eyes to heav'n he cast, 
" O Jove !" he cried — ** for what offence have 1 
Deserv'd to bear this endless infamy ? 
Whence am I forc'd, and whither am I .borne? 
How, and with what reproach shall I return ? 
Shall ever I behold the Latian plain, 
Or see Laurentum's lofty tow'rs again ? 
What will they say of their deserting chief? 
The war was mine : f fly from lheir relief! 
1 led to slaughter, and in slaughter leave; 
And e"en from hence their dying groans receive 
Here, over-maxh'd in fight, in heaps they lie, 
There, scatter'd o'er the fields, ignobly fly. 



84 ZENEIS. 

Gape wide, O earth, and draw me down alive! 
Or, oh ! ye pitying winds, a wretch relieve ! 
On sands or shelves, the splitting vessel drive ; 
Or set me shipwrecK'd on some desert shore, 
Where no Rutulian eyes may see me more — 
Unknown to friends, or foes, or conscious fame, 
Lest she should follow, and my flight proclaim." 

Thus Turnus rav'd, and various fates revolv'd i 
The choice was doubtful, but the death resolv'd. 
And now the sword, and now the sea, took place — 
That to revenge, and this to purge disgrace. 
Sometimes he thought to swim the stormy main, 
By stretch of arms the distant shore to gain. 
Thrice he the sword essay'd, and thrice the flood: 
But Juno, mov'd with pity, both withstood, 
An J thrice repress' d his rage; strong gales supplied, 
And push'd the vessel o'er the swelling tide. 
At length she lands him on his native shores, 
And to his father's longing arms restores. 

Meantime, by Jove's impulse, Mezentius arm'd, 
Succeeding Turnus, with his ardour warm'd 
His fainting friends, reproach'd their shameful flight, 
Repell'd the victors, and renew'd the fight. 
Against their king the Tuscan troops conspire: 
Such is their hate, and such their fierce desire 
Of wish'd revenge — on him, and him alone, 
All hands employ'd, and all their darts are thrown. 
He, like a solid rock by seas inclosVi, 
To raging winds and roaring waves oppos'd, 
From his proud summit looking down, disdains 
Their empty menace, and unmov'd remains. 

Beneath his feet fell haughty Hebrus dead. 
Then Latagus, and Palmus, as he fled. 
At Latagus a weighty stone he flung: 
His face was flatted, and his helmet rung. 
But Palmus from behind receives his wound : 
iiamstring'd he falls, and grovels on the ground: 



JEffEfS. U-5 

His crest and armour from his body torn, 
Thy shoulders, Lausus, and thy head, adorn. 
Evas and Mimas, both of Troy, he slew. 
Mimas his birth from fair Pheano drew — 
Born on that fatal night, when, big with fire, 
The queen produced young Paris to his sire. 
But Pans in the Phrygian fields was slain, 
Unthinking Mimas on the Latian plain. 

And as a savage boar, on mountains bred, 
With forest mast and fatt'ning marshes fed. 
When once he sees himself in toils inelos'd, 
By huntsmen and their eager hounds oppos'd, 
He whets his tusks, and turns, and dares the war, 
Th' invaders dart their jav'lins from afar: 
All keep aloof, and safely shout around : 
But none presumes to give a nearer wound : 
He frets and froths, erects his bristled hide, 
And shakes a grove of lances from his side : 
Not otherwise the troops, with hate inspir'd, 
And just revenge against the tyrant fir'd, 
Their darts with clamour at a distance drive, 
And only keep the languished war alive. 

From Corythus came Acron 10 the light, 
Who left nis spouse betroth'd, and unconsummat© 

night. 
Mezentius sees him through the squadron ride, 
Proud of the purple favours of his bride. 
Then as a hungry lion, who beholds 
A gamesome goat who frisks about the folds 
Or beamy stag that grazes on the plain — 
He runs, he roars, he shakes his rising mane, 
He grins, and opens wide his greedy jaws . 
The prey lies panting underneath his paws: 
He fills his famish'd maw ; his mouth rims o'er 
With unchew'd morsels, while he churns the gore: 
So proud Mezentius rushes on his foes, 
And first unhappy Acron overthrows- 



186 JEKEIS. 

Stretch'd at his length, he spurns the swarthy ground. 
The lance besmear'd with blood, lies broken in the 
wound. 
Then, with disdain, the haughty victor view'd 
Orodes flying, nor the wretch pursued, 
Nor thought the dastard's back deserv'd a wound, 
But, running, gain'd th' advantage of the ground: 
Then turning short, he met him face to face, 
To give his victory the better grace. 
Orodes falls, in equal fight oppress'd : 
JVIezentius fix'd his foot upon his breast, 
And rested lance; and thus aloud he cries: 
" Lo ! here the champion of my rebels lies !" 
The fields around with " lo Peean !" ring; 
And peals of shouts applaud the conqu'ring king. 
At this the vanquished with his dying breath, 
Thus faintly spoke, and prophesy'd in death: 
" Nor thou, proud man, unpunish'd shalt remain, 
Like death attends thee on this fatal plain." 
Then, sourly smiling, thus the king replied : 
" For what belongs to me, let Jove provide: 
But die thou first, whatever chance ensue..' 1 
He said, and from the wound the weapon drew. 
A hov'ring mist came swimming o'er his sight, 
And seal'd his eyes in everlasting night. 

By Ca^dicus, Alcathous was slain : 
Sacrator laid Hydaspes on the plain : 
Orses the strong to greater strength must yield : 
He, with Parthenius, were by Rapo kill'd. 
Then brave Messapus Ericetes slew, 
Who .Tom Lycaon's blood his lineage drew. 
But from his headstrong horse his fate he found, 
Who threw his master, as he made a bound : 
The chief, alighting, struck him to the ground ; 
Then Clonius, hand to hand, on foot assails: 
The Trojan sinks, and Neptune's son prevails. 

Agis the Lycian, stepping forth with pride, 
To single fight the boldest foe deiied ; 



JKNEIS. 187 

Whom Tuscan VeJerus by force o'er came, 
And not belied his mighty father's fame. 
Salius to death the great Authronius sent: 
But the same fate the victor underwent, 
Slain by Nealces' hand, well skill'd to throw 
The flying dart, and draw tli-e far-deceiving bow. 

Thus equal deaths are dealt with equal chance: 
Bv turns they quit their ground, by turns advance, 
Victors and vanquish'd in the various field, 
Nor wholly overcome, nor wholly yield. 
The gods from heav'n survey the fatal strife, 
And mourn the miseries of human life. 
Above the rest, two goddesses appear 
Concern'd for each : here Venus, Juno there. 
Amidst the crowd, infernal Ate shakes 
Her scourge aloft, and crest of hissing snakes. 

Once more the proud Mezentius, with disdain, 
Brandish'd his spear, and rush'd into the plain, 
Where tow'ring in the midmost rank he stood, 
Like tall Orion stalking o'er the flood, 
(When with his brawny breast he cuts the waves 
His shoulders scarce tne topmost billow laves) 
Or like a mountain-ash, whose roots are spread, 
Deep fix'd in earth— in clouds he hides ins head. 

The Trojan pnnee beheld him from afar, 
And dauntless undertook the doubtful war. 
Collected in his strength, and like a rock 
Pois'd on his base, Mezentius stood the shock. 
He stood, and measuring first with careful eyes 
The space his spear could reach, aloud he cries: 
*« My strong right hand, and sword assist my stroke J 
(Those only gods Mezentius will invoke) 
His armour, from the Trojan pirate torn, 
By my triumphant Lausus shall be worn." 
He said ; and with his utmost force he threw 
The massy spear, which, hissing as it flew, 
ReaclVd the celestial shield : that stopp'd the course; 
But, glancing thence, the yet unbroken force 



1H8 A1NEIS. 

Took a new bent obliquely, and, betwixt 
The side and bowels, fam'd Antoris fix'd. 
Antoris had from Argos travelled far, 
Alcides' friend, and brother of the war; 
Till, tir'd with toils, fair Italy he chose ; 
And in Evander's palace sought repose. 
Now falling by another's wound, his eyes 
He cast to heav'n, on Argos thinks, and dies. 

The pious Trojan then his jav'lin sent: 
The shield gave way: through triple plates it went 
Of solid brass, of linen triply tolTd, 
And three bull-hides, which round the buckler roll'd, 
All these it pass'd, resistless in the course, 
Transpierc'd his thigh, and spent its dying force, 
The gaping wound gush'd out a crimson flood. 
The Trojan, glad with sight of hostile blood, 
His falchion drew, to closer fight address'd, 
And with new force his fainting roe oppressed. 

His father's peril Lausus view'd with grief: 
He sigh'd, he wept, he ran to his relief. 
And here heroic youth, 'tis here I must 
To thy immortal memory be just, 
And sing an act so noble and so new, 
Posterity will scarce believe 'tis true. 
Pain'd with the wound, and useless tor the fight, 
The father sought to save himself by flight : 
Kncumber'd, slow he dragg'd the spear along, 
Which pierc'd his thigh, and in his buckler hung. 
The pious youth, resolv'd on death, below 
The lifted sword, springs forth to face the foe; 
Protects his parent, and prevents the blow, 
Shouts of applause ran ringing through the field, 
To see the son the vanquished father shield. 
All fir'd with gen'rous indignation, strive, 
And, with a storm of darts, to distance drive 
Tlie Trojan chief who, held at. bay from far, 
On his Vulcanian orb sustain'd the wax. 



180 



As, when thick hail comes rattTmg in the wind, 
The ploughman, passenger, and lab'rlng hind, 
For shelter to the neighboring covert fly, 
Or, hous'd, or safe in hollow caverns, lie ; 
But, that o'erblown, when heav'n above them smiles, 
Return to travail, and renew their toils: 
JEneas, thus o'erwhehn'd on ev'ry side, 
The storm of darts, undaunted, did abide ; 
And thus to Lausus loud with friendly threatening 

cried : 
" Why wilt thou rush to certain death and rage, 
In rash attempts, beyond thy tender age, 
Betray' d by pious love?" — Nor, thus forborn 
The youth desists, but with insulting scorn 
Provokes the ling'ring prince, whose patience tir'd, 
Gave place ; and all his breast with fury fir'ri. 
For now the Fates prepar'd their sharpened shears; 
And lifted high the flaming sword appears, 
Which, full descending, with a frightful sway, 
Thro' shield and corslet forc'd the impetuous way, 
And buried deep in his fair bosom lay. 
The purple streams through the thin armour strove. 
And drench'd the embroider' d coat his mother wove , 
And life at length forsook his heaving heart, 
Loth from so sweet a mansion to depart. 

But when, with blood and paleness all o'erspread, 
The pious prince beheld young Lausus dead, 
He griev'd, he wept ; (the sight an image brought 
Of his own filial love — a sadly pleasing thought) 
Then stretch'd his hand to hold him up, and said : 
" Poor hapless youth ! what prnises can be paid 
To love so great, to such transcendant store 
Of early worth, and sure presage of more *" 
Accept what'er iEneas can afford • 
Untouch'd thy arms, untaken be thy sword ; 
And all that pleas'd the living, still retrain 
Inviolate, and sacred to the slain. 



l90 £".NF.1S. 

Thy body on thy parents i bestow, 
To rest thy soul, at least, if shadows know, 
Or have a sense of human things below. 
There to thy fellow-ghosts with glory tell 
'Twas by the great Eneas' hand I fell." 
With this his distant friends lie beckons near, 
Provokes their duty, and prevents their fear: 
Himself assists to lift him from the ground, 
With clotted locks and blood that weird from out the 
wound. 
Meantime, his father, now no father stood, 
And wash'd his wounds, by Tyber's yellow flood: 
Oppress'd with anguish, panting, and o'erspent, 
His fainting limbs against an oak he leant. 
A bough his brazen helmet did sustain, 
His heavier arms lay scattered on the plain: 
A chosen train of youth around him stand: 
His drooping head was rested on his hand: 
His grisly beard his pensive bosom sought; 
And all on Lausus ran his restless thought. 
Careful, concerned, his danger to prevent, 
He much inquir'd, and many a message sent 
To warn him from the field— alas! in vain! 
Behold his mournful followers bear him slain: 
O'er his broad shield still gush'd the yawning wound, 
And drew a bloody trail along the ground. 
Far off he heard their cries, far off divin'd 
The dire event with a foreboding mind. 
With dust he sprinkled first his hoary head; 
Then both his lifted hands to heaven he spread ; 
Last, the dear corpse embracing, thus he said: 
44 Whai joys, alas ! could this frail being give, 
That I have been so covetous to live ? 
To see my son, and such a son, resign 
His life a ransom for preserving mine ? 
And am I then preserved, and art thou lost? 
How much too dear has that redemption cost ! 



iENEIS. 191 

'1' is now my bitter banishment I feel: 

This is a wound too deep for time to heal. 

My guilt thy growing virtues did defame ; 

My blackness blotted thy unblemish'd name. 

Chas'd from a throne, abandon'd, and exil'd 

For foul misdeeds, were punishments too mild : 

I ow'd my people these, and, from their hate, 

With less resentment could have borne rny fate. 

And yet I live, and yet sustain the sight 

Of hated men, and of more hated light — 

But will not long." With that he rais'd from ground 

His fainting limbs that stagger' d with his wound ; 

Yet with a mind resolv'd, and unappalPd 

With pains or perils for his couiser call'd — 

Well-mouth'd, weli-manag'd, whom himself did 

dress 
With daily care, and mounted with success — 
His aid in arms, his ornament in peace. 

Soothing his courage with a gentle stroke, 
The steed seem'ri sensible while thus he spoke: 
*« O Rhuebus ! we have liv'd too long for me — 
If life and long were terms that could agree. 
This day thou either shah bring back the head 
And bloody trophies of the Trojan dead — 
This day thou either shah revenge my wo, 
For murrier'd Lausus, on his cruel foe ; 
Oi, if inexorable Fate deny 
Our conquest, with thy conquered master die: 
For, after such a lord, I rest secure, 
Thou wilt no foreign reins, or Trojan load, endure." 
He said : and straight th' officious courser kneels, 
To take his wonted weight. His hands he nils 
With pointed jav'lins: on his head he lac'd 
His glitt'ring heJm, which terribly was grac'd 
With waving horse-hair, nodding from afar: 
Then spurr'd his diund'ring steed amidst the war. 
Love, anguish, wrath, and grief, to madness wrought, 
Despair, and secret shame, and conscious thought 



192 /ENEIS. 

Of inborn worth, his labYing soul oppress'd, 
Roll'd in his eyes, and rag 'd within nis breast. 
Then loud he cail'd /Eneas thrice by name: 
The loud repeated voice to glad /Eneas came. 
44 Great Jove," he said, *« and the far-shooting god, 
Inspire thy mind to make thy challenge good !" 
He spoke no more, but has'.en'd, void of" tear, 
And threaten' () with his long protended spear. 

To whom Mezentius thus: " Thy vaunts are vain. 
My Lausus lies extended on the plain : 
He's los f ! thy conquest is already won : 
The wretched sire is murder' d in the son. 
Nor fate I fear, but all the gods defy. 
Forbear thy threats: my bus'ness is co die- 
But first receive this parting legacy." 
He said ; and straight a whirling dart he sent: 
Another after, and another, went. 
Round in a spacious ring he rides the field, 
And vainly plies th' impenetrable shield. 
Thrice rode he round, and thrice /Eneas wheel'di 
Turn'd as he turn'd : the golden orb withstood 
The strokes, and bore about an iron wood 
Impatient of delay, and weary grown, 
Still to defend, and to defend alone, 
To wrench the darts which in his buckler light, 
Urg'd, and o'erlabour'd in unequal fight — 
At length'd resolv'd, he throws, with all his force, 
Full at the temples of the warrior horse. 
Just where the stroke was aim'd, th' unerring spear 
Made way, and stood transfix' d through either ear. 
Seiz'd with unwonted pain, surpris'd with fright, 
The wounded steed curvets, and, rais'd upright, 
Lights on his feet before : his hoofs behind 
Spring up in air aloft, and lash the wind, 
Down comes the rider headlong from his height: 
His horse came after with unwieldy weight, 
And, floundering forward, pitching on his head, 
His lord's encumber'd shoulder overlaid. 



jenris. 193 

From either host, the mingled shouts and cries 

Of Trojans and Rutulians rend the skies: 

JLneas, hast'ning, wav'd his fata] sword 

High o'er his head, with this reproachful word: 

" Now, where are now the taunts, the fierce disdain 

Of proud Mezentius, and the lofty strain i" 

Struggling, and wildly staring on the skies 
With scarce recover' d sight, he thus replies: 
" Why these insulting words, this waste of breathj 
To souls undaunted, and secure of death? 
v Tis no dishonour for the brave to die; 
Nor came I here with hope of victory; 
Noi ask I life, nor fought with that design. 
As I had usM my fortune, use thou thine. 
My dying son contracted no such band: 
The gift is hateful from his murderer's hand. 
For this, this only favour let me sue, 
If pity can to conquer'd foes be due, 
Refuse it not: but let my body have 
The last retreat of human kind, a grave. 
Too well I know the insulting people's hate. 
Protect me from their vengeance after fate: 
This refuge for my poor remains provide; 
And lay my much-iov'd Lausus by my side." 
He said, and to the sword his throat applied. 
The crimson stream distain'd his arms around, 
A.nd the disriain(i;l soul came rushing through tne 
wound. 

vol n. 13 



M N E I S. 



BOOK XI. 



ARGUMENT. 

•rt^neas erects a trophy of the spoils of Mezenlius, grants a 
truer: for burying the dead, and sends home the body of Pal- 
las with great solemnity. Latinus calls a council, to propose 
offers of peace to iKneas ; which occasions great animosity 
betwixt Turnus and Drances. In the mean lime there is a 
sharp engagement of the horse ; wherein Camilla signalizes 
herself, is killed, and the Latine troops are entirely defeated. 



^CARCE had the rosy morning raised her head 
Above the waves, and left her wat'ry bed ; 
The pious chief, whom double cares attend 
For his unburied soldiers and his friend, 
Yet first to heav'n perform'd a victor's vows: 
He bar'd an ancient oak of all her boughs; 
Then on a rising ground the trunk he piac/d, 
Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grae'd. 
The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn, 
Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, 
Was hung on high, and glitter'd from afar, 
A trophy sacred to the god of war. 
Above his arms, fix'd on the leafless wood, 
Appeared his plumy crest, besmear'd with blood. 
His brazen buckler on the left was seen : 
Truncheons of shiver'd lances hung between; 
And on the right was plac'd his corslet, bor'd ; 
And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword 
A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man. 
Who, thus, conspicuous in the midst, began: 



JENEIS. 195 

"Our toils, my friends, are crown'd wiln sure success; 

The greater part performed, achieve the less. 

Now follow cheerful to the trembling town : 

Press but an entrance, and presume it won. 

Fear is no more: for fierce Mezentius lies, 

As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice. 

Turnus shall fall extended on the plain, 

And, in this omen, is already slain. 

Prepar'd in arms, pursue your happy chance ; 

Ttiat none unwarn'd may plead his ignorance, 

And 1, at heaven's appointed hour, may find 

Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind. 

Meantime the rites and fun'ral pomps prepare, 

Due to your dead companions of the war — 

The last respect the living can bestow, 

To shield their shadows from contempt below. 

That conquer'd earth be theirs, for which they fought 

And which for us with their own blood they bought. 

But first the corpse of our unhappy friend 

To the sad city of Evander send, 
Who, not inglorious in his age's bloom 

Was hurried hence by too severe a doom." 

Thus, weeping, while he spoke, he took his way, 

Where, new in death, lamented Pallas'lay. 
Acoetes watch'd the corpse, whose youth deserv'd 

The father's trust •, and now the son he serv'd 
With equal faith, but less auspicious care: 
TV attendants of the slain his sorrow share. 
A troop of Trojans mix'd with these appear, 
And mourning matrons with dishevell'd hair. 
Soon as the prince appears, they raise a cry; 
A.l beat their breasts, and echoes rend the sky. 
They rear his drooping forehead from the ground: 
But, when .Eneas view'd the grisly wound 
Whicn Pallas in his manly bobom bore, 
And ihe fair flesh distain'd with purple gore ; 
Firsi, n elting into tears, the pious man 
DepiorM so sad a sight, then thus began : 



196 JEffEIS. 

" Unhappy youth ! when fortune gave the rest 
Of my fall wishes, she refus'd the best ! 
She came ; but brought not thee along, to bless 
My longing eyes, and share in my success: 
She grudg'd thy safe return, the triumphs due 
To prosp'rous valour, iu the public view. 
Not thus I promis'd, when thy father lent 
Thy needless succour with a sad consent; 
Embrac'd me. parting for th' Etrurian land, 
And sent me to possess a large command. 
He warn'd, and from his own experience told, 
Our foes were warlike, disciplin'd, and bold. 
And now, perhaps, in hopes of thy return 
Rich odours on his loaded altars burn, 
While we, with vain officious pomp, prepare 
To send him back his portion of the war, 
A bloody breathless body, which can owe 
No farther debt, but to the pow'rs below. 
The wretched father, ere his race is run, 
Shall view the fun'ral honours of his son ! 
These are my triumphs of the Latian war, 
Fruits of my plighted faith and boasted care ! 
And yet, unhappy sire, thou shalt not see 
A son, whose death disgrac'd his ancestry : 
Thou shalt not bfush, old man, however grievM : 
Thy Pallas no dishonest wound receiv 1 d. 
He died no death to make thee wish, too late, 
Thou hadst not liv'd to see his shameful fate. 
But what a champion has th' Ausonian coast, 
And what a friend hast thou, Ascanius, lost!" 

Thus having mourn'd, he gave the word around, 
To raise the breathless body from the ground ; 
And chose a thousand horse, the flow 1 !- of all 
His warlike troops, to wait the funeral, 
To bear him back, and share Evander's grief — 
A well-becoming, but a weak relief. 
Of oaken twigs they twist an easy bier, 
Tien on their shoulders the sad burden rear. 



jE.yeis. 197 

The body on his rural hearse is borne : 

Strew'd leaves and fun'ral greens the bier adorn. 

AT. pale ne lies, and looks a lovely flo-vv'r, 

New cropt by virgin hands, to Oress the bow'" 

Unfaded yet, but yet unfed below, 

No more to mother-earth or the green stem shall ovv . 

Then two fair vests, of wond'rous work and cost, 

Of purple woven, and with gold emboss'd, 

For ornament the Trojan herd brought, 

Which with her hands Sidonian Dido wrought. 

One vestarray'd the corpse ; and one they spread 

O'er his clos'd eyes, and wrapt around his head, 

That, when the yellow hair in flame should fall, 

The catching fire might burn the golden caul. 

Besides, the spoils of foes in battle slain, 

When he descended on the Latian plain — 

Arms, trappings, horses — by the hearse are led 

In long array— th' achievements of the dead. 

Then pinion'd with their hands behind, appear 

Th' unhappy captives, marching in the rear, 

Appointed ofPrings in the victor's name, 

To sprinkle with their blood the fun'ral flame. 

[nferior trophies by the chiefs are borne: 

Gauntlets and helms their loaded hands adorn ; 

And fair inscriptions fix'd, and titles read 

Of Latian leaders conquer'd by the dead. 

Acoates on his pupil's corpse attends, 
With feeble steps, supported by his friends. 
Pausing at every pace, in sorrow drown'd, 
Betwixt their arms he sinks upon the ground ; 
Wnere grov'ling while he lies in deep despair, 
He beats his breast, and rends his hoary hair. 
The champion's chariot ne^t is seen to roll, 
Besmear'd with hostile blood, and honourably foul. 
To close the pomp T .ftthon, the steed of state, 
Is led, the fun'rals of his lord to wait. 
Stripp'd of his trappings, with a sullen pace 
He walks ; and the big tears run rolling down his face. 



193 jENEIS. 

The lance of Pallas, and the crimson crest, 
Are bonie behind : — the victor seiz'd the rest. 
The inarch begins: tne trumpets hoarsely sound: 
The pikes and lances trail along the ground. 
Thus while the Trojan and Arcadian horse 
To Palantean tow'rs direct their course, 
In long procession r nk'd ; the pious chief 
Stopp'd in the rear, and gave a vent to grief 
" The public care," he said " which war attends, 
Diverts our present woes, at least suspends. 
Peace with the manes of great Pallas dwell ! 
Hail holy relics! and a tost farewell !" 
He said no more, but, inly though he mourn'd, 
Restrain'd his tears, and to the camp return'd. 

Now suppliants, from Laurentum sent, demand 
A truce, with olive-branches in their hand : 
Obtest his clemency, and from the plain 
Beg leave to draw the bodies of their slain. 
They plead, that none those common riles deny 
To conquered foes that in fair battle die 
j\\\ cause of hate was ended in their death ; 
Nor could he war with bodies void of breath. 
A king, they hop'd, would hear a king's request, 
Who-se son he once was cail'd, and once his guest. 

Their suit, which was too just to be denied, 
Hie hero grants, and farther thus replied: 
" O Latian princes ! how severe a fate 
In causeless quarrels has involv'd your state, 
And arm'd against an unoffending man, 
Who sought your friendship ere the war began .' 
You beg a truce, which I would gladly give, 
Not only for the slain, but those who live. 
I came not hither but by heavVs command, 
And sent by fate to share the Latian laud, 
Nor was;e I wars unjust: your king demed 
My proffer* d friendship and my prom'ts'd bride, 
Left me for Turnus> Turn us then should try 
His cause in arms, to conquer Gr to die. 



SINE IS. I 'J 9 

My right and his are in dispute: the slain 

Feii without fault, our quarrel to maintain. 

Jn equal arms let us alone contend ; 

And let him vanquish, whom his fates befriend. 

This is the way (so tell him) to possess 

The royal virgin, and restore the peace. 

Bear this my message back — with ample leave 

That your slain friends may fun'ral rites receive." 

Thus having said — the ambassadors, amaz'd, 
Stood mute awhile, and on each other gaz'd. 
Drances, their chief, who harbour' d in his breast 
Long hate to Tumus, as his foe profees'd, 
Broke silence first, and to the godlike man 
With graceful action bowing, thus began : 
" Auspicious prince, in arms a mighty name, 
But yet whose actions far transcend your fame ! 
Would I your justice or your force express, 
Thoughts can but equal ; and all words are less. 
Your answer we shall thankfully relate, 
And favours granted to the Latian state. 
If wish'd success our labours shall atte< , 
Think peace concluded, and the king your friend. 
Let Turnus leave the realm to your command ; 
And seek alliance in some other land : 
Build you the city which your fates assign : 
We shall be proud in the great work to join." 
Thus Drances ; and his words so w r ell persuade 
The rest empow 7 er'd, that soon a truce is made. 
Twelve days the term allowed : and, during those, 
Latians and Trojar.s now no longer foes, 
Mix'd in the wooas, for fun'ral piles prepare 
To fell the timber, and forget the war 
Loud axes through the groaning groves resound : 
Oak, mountain-ash, and poplar, spread the ground; 
Firs fall from high : and some the trunks receive 
In loaden w 7 ains : with wedges some they cleave. 

And now the fatal news by Fame is blown 
Through the short circuit of th' Arcadian town. 



200 JENKIS. 

Of Pallas slain — by Fame, which just before 
His triumphs on distended pinions bore. 
Rushing from out the gate, the people stana, 
Each with a fun'ral flambeau in his hand. 
Wildly they stare, distracted with amaze: 
The fields are lightened with a fiery blaze, 
That casts a sullen splendour on their friends — 
The marching troop which their dead prince attends. 
Both parties meet . they raise a doleful cry : 
The matrons from the walls with shrieks reply : 
And their mix' d mourning rends the vaulted sky. 
The town is fill'd with tumult and with tears, 
Till the loud clamours reach Evander's ears: 
Forgetful of his state he runs along, 
With a disordered pace, and cleaves the throng; 
Falls on the corpse ; and groaning there lie lies, 
With silent grief, that speaks but at his eyes. 
Short sighs and sobs succeed • till sorrow breaks 
A passage, and at once he weeps and speaks: 
'■' O Pallas! thou hast fail'd thy plighted word ! 
To fight with caution, not to tempt the sword, 
1 warn'd thee, but in vain ! for well I knew 
What perils youthful ardour would pursue — ■ 
That boiling blood would carry thee too far, 
Young as thou wert in dangers, raw to war! 
O curst essay of arms ! disastrous doom ! 
Prelude of bloody fields, and fights to come ! 
Hard elements of inauspicious war ! 
Yam vows to heav'n, and unavailing care ! 
Thrice happy thou, dear partner of my bed 
Whose holy soul the stroke of Fortune fled— 
Prescious of ills, and leaving me behind, 
To drink the dregs of life, by fate assign'd. 
Beyond the goal of nature I have gone: 
My Pallas late set out, but reach'd too soon. 
If, for my league against th' Ausouian state, 
Amidst their weapons I had found my fate 
(Deserv'd from them,) then I had been returned 
A breathless victor, and my son had mourn'd. 



JENEI8. SOl 

Vet will I not my Trojan friend upbraid, 
Nor grudge th' alliance I so gladly made. 
'Twas not his fault my Pallas fell so young, 
But my own crime for having liv'd too long. 
Yet, since the gods had destined him to die, 
At least, he led the way to victory : 
first for his friends he won the fatal shore, 
And sent whole herds of slaughter'd foes before — ■ 
A death too great,too glorious to deplore. 
IS T or will I add new honours to thy grave, 
Content with those the Trojan hero gave — 
That funeral pomp thy Phrygian friends designed, 
In which the Tuscan chiefs and army join'd. 
Great spoils and trophies, gam'd b} r thee, they bear: 
Then let thy own achievments be thy share. 
E'en thou,0 Turnus, hadst a trophy stood, 
Whose mighty trunk had better giac'd the wood, 
If Pallas had arriv'd, with equal length 
Of years, to match thy bulk with equal strength, 
But why, unhappy man ! dost thou detain 
These troops, to view the tears thou shed'st in vain ? 
Go, friends! this message to your lord reiate: 
Tell him, that, if I bear my bitter fate, 
And, after Pallas' death, live lingering on, 
'Tis to behold his vengeance for my son. 
1 stay for Turnus, whose devoted head 
Is owing to the living and the dead. 
My son and I expect it from his hand ; 
'Tis all that he can give, or we demand. 
Joy is no more : but I would gladly go, 
To greet my Pallas with such l.ews below." 

The morn had now dispelled the shades of nigh* 
Piestoring toils, when she restorYl the light. 
The Trojan king, andTuscan chief command 
To raise the piles along the winding strand. 
Their friends convey the dead to fun'ral fires; 
Black smould'ring smoke from the green wood expires; 
The light of heaven is chok'd, and the new day relives, 



«< f J3 JINEI3. 

Then thrice around the kindled piles they go 

(For ancient custom had ordairrd it so) 

Thrice horse and foot about the fires are led • 

And thrice with loud laments they hail the dead. 

Tears trickling down their breasts, bedew the giouud ; 

And drums and trumpets mix then mournful sound. 

Amid the blaze, their pious brethren throw 

The spoils, in battle taken from the foe — 

Helms, bits emboss'd, and swords of shining steel* 

One casts a target, one a chariot-wheel: 

Some to their fellows their own arms restore — 

The falchions which in luckless fight they bore, 

Their bucklers pierc'd, their darts bestow'd in vain 

And shiver'd lances gathered from the plain. 

Whole herds of offer' d bulls, about the fire, 

And bristled boars, and woolly sheep, expire. 

Around the piles a careful troop attends, 

To watch the wasting flames, and weep their burning 

friends — 
Lingering along the shore, till dewy night 
New decks the face of heav'n with starry light. 

The conquer'd Latians, with like pious care, 
Piles without number for their dead prepare. 
Part, in the places where they fell, are laid : 
And part are to the neighboring fields conveyVl. 
The corpse of kings, and captains of renown, 
Borne off in state, are bury'd in the town ; 
The rest unhonour'd, and without a name, 
A A re cast a common heap to feed the flame. 
Trojans and Latians vie with like desires 
To make the field of battle shine with fires; 
And the promiscuous blaze to heav'n aspires. 

Now had the morning thrice renewVI the light, 
And thrice dispell'd the shadows of the night. 
When those who round" the wasted fires remain, 
Perform the last sad office to the slain. 
They rake the yet warm ashes from below • 
These, and the bones unburn'd, in earth bestow • 



iENEIS. 203 

These relics with their country rites they grace, 
And raise a mount of turf to mark the place. 

But, in the palace of the king, appears 
A scene more solemn, and a pomp of tears. 
Maids, matrons, widows, mix their common moans 
Orphans their sires, and sires lament their sons. 
All in that universal sorrow share, 
And curse the cause of this unhappy war — 
A broken league, a bride unjustly sought, 
A crown usurp'd, which with their blood is bought. 
These are the crimes, with which they load the name 
Of Tumus, and on him aione exclaim : 
" JL.et him, who lords it o'er th' Ausonian land, 
Engage the Trojan hero hand to hand ; 
His is the gain • our lot is but to serve : 
'Tis just, the sway he seeks, he should deserve." 
This Drances aggravates; and adds, with spite, 
His foe expects, and dares him to the fight. 
Nor Tumus wants a party, to support 
His cause and credit in the Latian court. 
His former acts secure his preser* fame; 
And the queen shades him with her mighty name* 

While thus their factious minds with fury burn, 
The legates from th' iEtoiian prince return : 
Sad news they bring, that, after all the cost 
And care employ'd, their embassy is lost ; 
That Diomede refus'd his aid in war, 
Unmov'd with presents, and as deaf to pray'r. 
Some new alliance must elsewhere be sought. 
Or peace with Troy on hard conditions bought. 

Latmus, sunk in sorrow, finds too late, 
A foreign son is pointed out by fate ; 
And, till iEneas shall Lavinia wed, 
The wrath of heav'n is hov'ring o'er his head. 
The gods, he saw, espous'd the juster side. 
When late their titles in the field were tried : 
Witness the fresh laments, and fun'ral tears undried. 

Thus ful4 of anxious thought, he summons all 
The Latian senate to the council hall. 



204 jeneis. 

The princes come, commanded by tSieir head, 
And crowd the paths that to the palace lead. 
Supreme in pow'r, and reverenc'd for his years, 
He takes the throne, and in the midst appears. 
Majestically sad, he sits in state, 
And bids his envoys their success relate. 

When Venulus began, the murm'ring sound 
Was hush'ri, and sacred silence reign'd around. 
" We have," said he, "performed your high command, 
And pass'd with peril a long tract of land •. 
We reach'd the place desirM ; with wonder fill'd, 
The Grecian tents and rising tow'rs beheld. 
Great Diomede has compass' d round with walls 
The city, which Argyripa he calls, 
From his own Argcs uam'chwe touch'd with joy, 
The royal hand that raz'd unhappy Troy. 
When introduc'd, our presents first we bring, 
Then crave an instant audience witli the king, 
His leave obtain'd our native soil we name, 
And tell th 1 important cause for which we came. 
Attentively he heard us while we spoke; 
Then with soft accents and a pleasing look, 
Made this return : * Ausonian race, of old 
Renown'd for peace, and for an age of gold, 
What madness has your alter' d minds possess'd, 
To change for war hereditary rest, 
Solicit arms unknown, and tempt the sword — 
A needless ill, your ancestors abhorr'd ? 
We — for myself I speak, and all the name 
Of Grecians, who to Troy's destruction came— 
(Omitting those who were in battle slain, 
Or borne by rolling Simoi's to the main) 
Not one but suffer'd, and too dearly bought 
The prize of honour which in arms he sought 
Some docin'd to death, and some in exile driv'n, 
Outcasts, abandon'd by the care of heav'n — 
So worn, so wretched, so despis'd a crew, 
As e'en old Priam might with pity view. 



£NE1S. 205 

Witness the vessels by Minerva toss'd 

In storms — the vengeful Capharean coast — 

Th' Euboean rocks — the prince, whose brother led 

Our armies to revenge his injur'd bed, 

In Egypt lost. Ulysses, with his men, 

Have seen Uharybdis, and the Cyclops 1 den. 

Why should I name Idomeneus, in vain 

Restor'd to sceptres, and expel I'd again ? 

Or young Achilles, by his rival slain ? 

E'en he, the king of men, the foremost name 

Of all the Greeks, and most reuown'd by iame, 

The proud revenger of another's wife, 

Yet by his own adult'ress lost his life — 

Fell at his threshold ; and the spoils of Troy 

The foul polluters of his bed enjoy. 

The gods have envied me the sweets of life, 

My much-lov'd country and my more lov'd wife: 

Banish'd from both, I mourn; while in the sky, 

Transform'd to birds, my lost companions fly: 

Hovering about the coasts they make their moan, 

And cuff the cliffs with pinions not their own. 

What squalid spectres, in the dead of night, 

Break my short sleep, and skim before my sight ! 

1 might have promis'd to myself those harms, 

Mad as I was, when I with mortal arms, 

Fresum'd against immortal povv'rs to move, 

And violate with wounds the queen of love. 

Such arms this hand shall never more employ: 

No hate remains with me to ruin'd Troy. 

1 war not with its dust ; nor am I glad 

To think of past events, or good or bad. 

Your presents 1 return: whate'er you bring 

To buy my friendship, send the Trojan king. 

We met in fight: I know him to my cost: 

With what a whirling force his lance he toss'd ! 

Heav'ns ! what a spring was in his arm, to throw ! 

How high he held his shield, and rose at ev'rv blow J- 



20b JENVJS. 

Had Troy produced two more his match in might 
They would have chang'd the fortune of the tight 
Tli' invasion of the Greeks had been return'd, 
Our empires wasted and our cities burn'd. 
The long defence the Trojan people made, 
The war protracted, and the siege delay'd, 
Were due to Hector's and this hero's hand: 
Both brave alike, and equal in command; 
/Eneas, not inferior in the field, 
Ju pious rev'rence to the gods excell'd. 
Make peace, ye Latians, and avoid with care 
Th 1 impending dangers of a fatal war.' 
He said no more ; but with this cold excuse, 
Refns'd th' alliance, and advis'd a truce." 

Thus Venulus concluded his report. 
A jarring murmur fill'd the factious court: 
As when a torrent rolls with rapid force, 
Aid flashes o'er the stones that stop their course, 
The flood constrain'd within a scanty space, 
Poars horrible along th' uneasy race ; 
White foam in gath'ring eddies floats around ; 
The rocky shores rebellow to the sound. 

The murmur ceas'd : then from his Jofty throne 
The king invok'd the gods, and thus begun: 
44 1 wish, ye Latians, what we now debate 
Had been resolv'd before it was too laie. 
Much better had it been for you and me, 
Unforc'd to this our last necessity, 
To have been earlier wise, than now to call 
A council, when the i'oe surrounds the wall. 
O citizens, we wage unequal wai, 
With men, not only heaven's peculiar care, 
But heav'n's own race — unconquer'd in the field, 
Or, conquer'd, yet unknowing how to yield. 
W 7 hat hopes you had in Diomede, lay down: 
Our hopes must centre on ourselves alone. 
Vet those how feeble, and, indeed, how vain, 
You see too well; nor need niv words explain-- 



^NFIS. 207 

Vanquished without resource — laid flat by fate — 

Factions within, a foe without the gate ! 

Not but I grant that all perform' d their parts 

With manly force, and with undaunted hearts: 

With our united strength the war we wag'd ; 

vVith equal numbers, equal arms, engagM: 

You see tlr event. — Now hear what L propose, 

To save our friends, and satisfy our foes. 

A tract of land the Latians have possess'd 

Along the Tyber, stretching to the west, 

Which now Rutulians and Aruncans till; 

And their mix'd cattle graze the fruitful hill. 

Those mountains fill'd with firs, that lower land, 

If you consent, the Trojans shall command, 

Call'd into part of what is ours and there, 

On terms agreed, the common country share. 

There let them build, and settle if they please; 

Unless they choose once more to cross the seas, 

In search of seats remote from Italy, 

And from unwelcome inmates set us free. 

Then twice ten galleys let us build with speed, 

Or twice as many more, if more the}' need. 

Materials are at hand : a well grown wood 

Runs equal with the margin of the flood: 

Let them the number and the form assign ; 

The care and cost of all the stores be mine. 

To treat the peace, a hundred senators 

Shall be commission'd hence with ample pow'rs, 

With olive crown'd : the presents tney shall bear, 

A purple robe, a royal iv'ry chair, 

And all the marks of sway that Latian monarchs wear, 

And sums of gold. Among yourselves debate 

This great affair, and save the sinking state." 

Then Drances took the word, who grudg'd, long mice, 
The rising glories of the Daunian prince, 
Factious and rich, bold at the council board, 
But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword — 
A close caballer, and tongue-valiant lord. 
Noble his mother was, and near the throne ; 



208 iENEIS. 

But, what his father's parentage, unknown. 
He rose, and took th' advantage of the times, 
To load y^ung Turnus with invidious crimes. 
" Such trutns, O king," said he, " your words contain, 
As strike the sense, and all replies are vain ; 
Nor are your loyal subjects now to seek 
What common needs require ; but fear to speak. 
Let him give leave of speech, that haughty man, 
Whose pride this inauspicious war began ; 
For whose amoition, (let me dare to say, 
Fear set apart, though death is in my way) 
The plains of Latium run with blood around ; 
So many valiant heroes bite the ground ; 
Dejected grief in ev'ry face appears: 
A town in mourning, and a land in tears ; 
While he, th' undoubted author of our harms, 
The man who menaces the gods with arms, 
Vet, after all his boasts, forsook the fight, 
And sought his safety in ignoble flight. 
Now, best of kings, since you oropose to send 
Such bounteous presents to your Trojan friend ; 
Add yet a greater at our joint request, 
One which he values more than all the rest: 
Give him the fair Lavinia for his bride: 
With that alliance let the league be tied, 
And for the bleeding land a lasting peace provide. 
Let insolence no longer awe the throne ; 
But, with a lather's right bestow your own. 
For tnis maligner of the general good, 
If still we rear his force, he must be woo'd: 
His haughty godhead we with pray'rs implore, 
Your sceptre to release, and our just rights restore* 
O cursed cause of all our ills ! must we 
Wage wars unjust, and fall in Sight for thee t 
What right hast thou to rule the Latian state, 
And send us out to meet our certain fate? 
Tis a destructive war: from Turnus' hand 
Our peace and public safety we demand. 



209 



Let the fair bride to the brave chief remain, 

if not. the peace, without the pledge, is vain. 

Turmis, I know you ihink me not your friend, 

Nor will I much with your belief contend: 

1 beg your greatness not to give the law 

In other realms, but, beaten, to withdraw. 

Pity your own, or pity our estate ; 

Nor twist our fortunes with your sinking fate. 

Your int'rest is, the war should never cease ; 

But we have felt enough, to wish the peace — 

A land exhausted to the last remains, 

Depopulated towns, and driv'n plains. 

Yet, if desire of fame, and thirst of pow'r, 

A beauteous princess, with a crown in dow'r, 

So fire your mind, in arms assert your right, 

And meet your foe, who dares you to the right. 

Mankind, it seems, are made for you alone;! 

We, hut the slaves who mount you to the throne— 

A base ignoble crowd, without a name, 

Unwept, unworthy of the fun'ral flame, 

By duty bound to forfeit each his life. 

That Turnus may possess a royal wife ! 

Permit not, mighty man, so mean a crew 

Should share such triumphs, and detain from you 

The post of honour, your undoubted due. 

Rather alone your matchless force employ, 

To merit what alone you must enjoy." 

These words, so full of malice, mix'd with art, 
Inflam'd with rage the youthful hero's heart. 
Then groaning from the bottom of his breast, 
He heavM for wind, and thus his wrath expressM: 
M You, Drances, never want a stream of words, 
Then, when the public need requires our swords. 
First, in the council-ball, to steer the state, 
And ever foremost in a tongue debate, 
While our strong walls secure us from the foe, 
Ere yet w ; th blood our ditches overflow ; 

VOL. II. 14 



210 iENEIS. 

But let the potent orator declaim. 

And with the brand of coward blot my name; 

Free leave is giv'n him, when his fatal hand 

Has cover'd with more corpse the sanguine strand, 

And high as mine histow'ring trophies stand. 

Jf any doubt remains who dares the most, 

Let us decide it at the Trojan's cost, 

And issue both a-breast, where honour calls — 

(Foes are not far to seek without the walls) 

Unless his noisy tongue can only fight, 

And feet were giv'n him but to speed his flight. 

1 beaten from the field? I fore'd away? 

Who, but so known a dastard, dares to say? 

Had he but ev'n beheld the fight, his eyes 

Had witness'd for me, what his tongue denies — 

What heaps of Trojans by this hand were slain, 

And how the bloody Tyber swell'd the main. 

All saw, but he, th' Arcadian troops retire 

In scatter'd squadrons, and their prince expire. 

The giant brothers, in their camp, have found, 

1 was not fore'd with ease to quit my ground. 

Not such the Trojans tried me, when, inclosed, 

I singly their united arms oppos'd — 

First fore'd an entrance through their thick array, 

Then, glutted with their slaughter, freed my way. 

'Tis n destructive war ! So let it be, 

But to the Phrygian pirate, and to thee. 

Meantime proceed to fill the people's ears 

With false reports, their minds with panic fears: 

Extol the strength of a twice-conquer'd race ; 

Our foes encourage, and our friends debase. 

Believe thy fables, and the Trojan town 

Triumphant stands: the Grecians are o'erthrown; 

Suppliant at Hector's feet Achilles lies; 

And Diomede from fierce #>neas flies. 

Say, rapid Aufidus with awful dread 

Runs backward from the sea, and hides his h?ad, 



JENEIS. ^11 

When the great Trojan on his bank appears; 

For that's as true as thy dissembled fears 

Of my revenge: dismiss that vanity: 

Thou Drances, art below a death from me. 

Let that vile soul in that vile body rest ; 

The lodging is well worthy of the guest. 

Now royal father, to the present state 

Of our affairs, and of this high debate — 

If in your arms thus early you diffide, 

And think your fortune is already tried ; 

If one defeat has brought us down so low, 

As never more in fields to meet the foe ; 

Then I conclude for peace : 'tis time to treat, 

And lie like vassals at the victor's feet. 

But oh ! if any ancient blood remains, 

One drop of all our fatheis, in our veins, 

That man would I prefer before the rest, 

Who dar'd his death with an undaunted breast ; 

Who comely fell by no dishonest wound, 

To shun that sight, and, dying, gnaw'd the ground. 

But, if we still have fresh recruits in store, 

If our confed'rates can afford us more; 

If the contended field we bravely fought: 

And not a bloodless victory was bought ; 

Their losses equall'd ours, and for their slain, 

With equal fires they fill'd the shining plain ; 

Why thus, unforc'' 1 should we so tamely yield, 

And. ere the trumpet sounds, resign the field; 

Good unexpected, evils unforeseen, 

Appear by turns, as fortune shifts the scene: 

Some, rais'd aloft, couae tumbling down amain ; 

Then fall so hard, they bound and rise again. 

!f Diomede refuse his aid to lend, 

The great Messapus yet remains our friend : 

Tblumnius, who Fortells events, is ours: 

Th' Italiat itoiefs, and princes, join their pow'rs: 

Nor least in number, nor in name the last. 

Your own bra"e subjects have our cause embraced 



21 2 .ENEIS. 

Above the rest, the Vol scian Amazon 
Contains an army in herself alone, 
And beads a squadron, terrible to sight, 
Witt glitt'ring shields, in brazen armour bright. 
Yet, f the foe a single fight demand, 
And I alone the public peace withstand ; 
If ycu consent, he shall not be refus'd, 
Nor *rnd a hand to victory unus'd. 
Thu new Achilles, let him take the field, 
Wi h fated armour, and Vulcanian shield ! 
f'o» you, my royal father, and my fame, 
[, Turnus, not the least of all my name, 
Devote my soul. He calls me hand to hand : 
And I alone will answer his demand. 
Frances shall rest secure, and neither share 
The danger, nor divide the prize, of war." 

While they debate, nor these nor those will yield, 
JEneas draws his forces to the field, 
And moves his camp. The scouts with flying speed 
Return, and through the frighted city spread 
Th' unpleasing news. " The Trojans are descried, 
In battle marching by the riverside, 
And bending to the town." They take th' alarm : 
Some tremble, some are bold, all in confusion arm 
Th' impetuous youth press forward to the fiel 1 : 
They clash the sword, and clatter on the shie.d: 
The fearful matrons raise a screaming cry; 
Old feeble men with fainter groans reply: 
A jarring sound results, and mingles in the sky, 
Like that of swans remurm'ringto the floods, 
Or birds of diff'ring kinds in hollow woods. 
Turnus th 7 occasion takes, and crift aloud: 
" Talk on, ye quaint haranguers of the crowd: 
Declaim in praise of peace, when danger calls, 
And the fierce foes in arms approach the walls." 
He said, and, turning short with speedy pace, 
Casts back a scornful glance, and quits the place, 



MNEIS. 213 

" Thou, Volusus, the Volscian troops command 
To mount ; and lead thyself our Ardean band. 
Messapus, and Catillus, post your force 
Along the fields, to charge the Trojan horse. 
Some guard the passes ; others man the wail ; 
Drawn up in arms, the rest attend my call." 

They swarm from ev'ry quarter of the town, 
And with disorder' d haste the rampires crown. 
Good old Latin us, when he saw, too late, 
The gathering storm just breaking on the state, 
Dismiss'd the council till a fitter time, 
And own'd his easy temper as his crime, 
Who, fore'd against his reason, had complied 
To break the treaty for the promts' d bride. 
Some help to sink, new trenches; others aid 
To ram the stones, or raise the palisade. 
Hoarse trumpets sound th' alarm : around the walls 
Runs a distracted crew, whom their last labour calls, 
A sad procession in the streets is seen, 
Of matrons that attend the mother-queen 
High in her chair she sits, and, at her side, 
With down-cast eyes appears the fatal bride. 
They mount the cliff, where Pallas' temple stands; 
Pray'rs in their mouths, and presents in their hands 
With censers, first they fume the sacred shrine, 
Then in this common supplication join: 
" O pa oness of arms! unspotted maid ! 
Propitious hear, and lend thy Latians aid ! 
Break short the pirate's lance: pronounce his fate; 
And lay the Phrygian low before the gate." 

Now Tuvnus arms for fight. His back and breast 
Well-temper'd steel and scaly brass invest : 
The cuishes, which his brawny thighs infold, 
Are mingled metal, da mask'd o'er with gold. 
His faithful falchionsits upon his side; 
Nor casque, nor crest, his manly features hide: 
But, bare to view, amid surrounding friends, 
With godlike grace, he from the tow'r descends. 



214 #:neis. 

Exulting m his strength, he seems to dare 
His absent rival, and to promise war. 

Freed from his keepers, thus, with broken reins, 
The wanton courser prances o'er the plains, 
Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the bounds, 
And snuffs the females in forbidden grounds, 
Or seeks his wat'ring in the well-known flood, 
To quench his thirst, and cool his fiery blood: 
He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain, 
And o'er his shoulder flows his waving mane: 
He neighs, he snorts, he bears his head on high ; 
Before his ample chest the frothy waters fly. 

Soon as the prince appears without the gate, 
The Volscians, and their virgin leader, wait 
His last commands. Then, with a graceful mien, 
Lights from her lofty steed the warrior queen : 
Her squadron imitates, and each descends; 
Whose cnnvnon suit Camilla thus commends: 
" If tense o*" honour, if a soul secure 
Of inborn worth that can all tests endure, 
Can promise aught, or on itself rely, 
Greatly to dare, to conquer or to die ; 
Then, I alone, sustain'd by these, will meet 
The Tyrrhene troops, and promise their defeat. 
Ours be the danger, ours the sole renown : 
You, gen'ral, stay behind, and guard the town." 
Turnus a while stood mute with glad surprise, 
And on the fierce virago fix'd his eyes, 
Then thus return' d : " O grace of Italy; 
With what becoming thanks can I reply ? 
Not only words lie lab'ring in my breast: 
But thought itself is by thy praise oppressed. 
Vet rob me not of all; but let me join 
My toils, my hazard, and my fame, with thine. 
The Trojan, not in stratagem unskilPd, 
Sends his light horse before to scour the field: 
Himself, through steep ascents and thorny brakes, 
A larger compass to the city takes. 



£NEIS. 215 

This news my scouts confirm : and I prepare 
To foil his cunning, and his force to dare; 
With chosen foot his passage to forelay, 
And place an ambush m the winding way. 
Thou, with thy Volscians, face the Tuscan horse: 
The brave Messapus shall thy troops enforce 
With those of Tibur, and the Latian band, 
Subjected all to thy supreme command " 

This said, he warns Messapus to the war, 
Then ev'ry chief exhorts with equal care. 
All thus encourag'd, his own troops he joins, 
And hastes to prosecute his deep designs. 

Inclos'd with hills a winding valley lies, 
By nature form'd for fraud, and fitted for surprise 
A narrow track, by human steps untrod, 
Leads, thro' perplexing tliorns, to this obscure abode* 
High o'er the vale, a sleepy mountain stands, 
Whence the surveying sight the nether ground com 

mands. 
The top is level — an offensive seat 
Of war; and from the war a safe retreat: 
For, on the right and left, is room to press 
The foes at hand, or from afar distress ; 
To drive them headlong downward ; and to pour, 
On their descending backs, a stony show'r. 
Thither young Turnus took the well-known way 
Possess'd the pass, and in blind ambush lay. 

Meantime, Latonian Phoebe, from the skies, 
Beheld th' approaching war with hateful eyes, 
And call'd the light-foot Opis to her aid, 
Her most belovM aud ever- trusty maid ; 
Then with a sigh began : " Camilla goes 
To meet her death amidst her fatal toes — 
The nymph I lov'd of all my mortal train 
Invested with Diana's arms in vain. 
Nor is my kindness for the virgin new: 
Twas born with her; and with her years it grew 



216 &NEI3. 

Her father Metabus, when forc'd away 
From old Privernum, for tyrannic sway, 
Snatch'd up, and sav'd from his prevailing foes, 
This tender babe, companion of his woes. 
Casmilla was her mother: but he drown'd, 
One hissing letter in a softer sound, 
And call'd Camilla. Through the woods he flies; 
Wrapp'd in his robe,the royal infant lies. 
lis foes in sight, he mends his weary pace ; 
With shouts and clamours they pursue the chase. 
The banks of Amasene at length he gains: 
The raging flood his further flight restrains, 
RaisYi o'er the borders with unusual rains. 
Prepar'd to plunge into the stream, he fears, 
Not for himself, but for the charge he bears. 
Anxious, he stops a while, and thinks in haste, 
Then, desp'rate in distress, resolves at last. 
A knotty lance of well boil'd oak he bore: 
The middle part with cork he cover'd o'er; 
He clos'd the child withm the hollow spare; 
With twigs of bending osier bound the case. 
Then pois'd the spear, heavy with human weight, 
And thus invoked my favour for the freight: 
* Accept, great goddess of the woods, (he said) 
Sent by her sire, this dedicated maid ! 
Through air she flies, a suppliant to thy shrine ; 
And the first weapons that she knows, are thine.' 
He said ; and with full force the spear he threw: 
Above the sounding waves Camilla flew. 
Then, press'd by foes, he stemm'd the stormy tide, t 
And gairi'd, by stress of arms, the farther side. 
His fasten'd spear he pulPd from out the ground, • 
And, victor of his vows, his infant nymph unbound 
Nor, after that, in towns which walls inclose, 
Would trust his hunted life amidst his foes; 
But, rough, in open air he chose to be: 
Earth was his couch ; his covering was the sky. 



217 



On hills unshorn, or in a desert den, 

He shunn'd the dire society of men, 

A shepherd's solitary life he led : 

His daughter with the milk of mares he fed. 

The dugs of bears, and ev'ry savage beast, 

He drew, and through her lips the liquor press'a. 

The little Amazon could scarcely go — 

He loads her with a quiver and a bow : 

\nd, that she might her starring steps command, 

:Ie with a slender jav'lin fills her hand, 

Her flowing hair no golden fillet bound ; 

Nor swept her trailing robe the dusty ground. 

instead of these, a tiger's hide o'erspread 

Her back and shoulders, fasten'd to her head. 

The flying dart she first attempts to fling, 

And round her tender temples toss'd the sling ; 

Then, as her strength with years increas'd, began 

To pierce aloft in air the soaring swan, 

And from the clouds to fetch the heron and the crane. 

The Tuscan matrons with each other vied 

To bless their rival sons with such a bride : 

But she disdains their love, to share with me 

The sylvan shades, and vow'd irginity. 

And, oh ! I wish, contented wiln my cares 

Of savage spoils, she had not sought the wars: 

Then had she been of my celestial train, 

And shunn'd the fate that dooms her to be slain, 

But since, opposing heav'n's decree, she goes 

To find her death among forbidden foes, 

Haste with these arms, and take thy steepy flight, 

Where with the gods averse, the Latians fight." 

This bow to thee, this quiver, I bequeath, 

This chosen arrow to revenge her death ; 

By whate'erhand Camilla shall be slain, 

Or of the Trojan or Italian train, 

Let him not pass unpunish'd from the plain. 

Then, in a hollow cloud, myself will aid 

To bear the breathless body of my maid , 



?13 MKFA&. 

UnspoilVl shall be her arms, and unprofan'd 

Her holy limbs with any human hand, 

And in a marble tomb laid in her native land." 

She said The faithful nymph descends from high 
With rapid flight, and cuts the sounding sky: 
Black clouds and stormy winds around her body fly. 

By this, the Trojan and the Tuscan horse, 
Drawn up in squadrons, with united force 
Approach the walls: the sprightly coursers bound, 
Press forward on their bits, and shift their ground, 
Shields, arms, and spears, flash horribly from far; 
And the fields glitter with a waving war. 
Oppos'd to these, come on with furious force 
Messapus, Coras, and the Latian horse ; 
These in a body plao'd on either hand 
Sustain'd and clos'd by fair Camilla's band, 
Advancing in a line, they couch their spears ; 
And less and less the middle space appears. 
Thick smoke obscures the field, and scarce are seen 
The neighing coursers, and the shouting men. 
In distance of their darts they stop their course; 
Then man to man they rush, anrt horse to horse. 
The face of heav'n their flying jav'lins hide; 
And deaths unseen are dealt on either side. 
Tyrrhenus, and Aconteub, void of fear, 
By mettled coursers borne in full career, 
Meet first oppos'd ; and, with a mighty shock, 
Their horses' heads against each other knock- 
Far from his steed is fierce Aconteus cast, 
As with an engine's force, or lightning's blast: 
He rolls along in blood, and breathes his last 
The Latin squadron take a sudden fright, 
And sling their shields behind, to save their backs in 

flight 
Spin ring at speed, to their own walls they drew ; 
Close in the rear the Tuscan troops pursue, 
And urge their flight: Asylas leads the chase : 
Till, seiz*d with shame, they wheel about and face, 



jENEis. 219 

Receive their foes, and raise a threatening cry. 
The Tuscans take their turn to fear and fly. 

So swelling surges with a thundering roar, 
Driv'n on each other's backs, insult the shore, 
Bound o'er the rocks, encroach upon the laud, 
And far upon the beach eject the sand ; 
Then backward, with a swing, they take their way 
Repulsed from upper ground, and seek their mother-sea 
With equal hurry quit th' invaded shore, 
And swallow back the sand and stones they spew'd 

before. 
Twice were the Tuscans masters of the field, 
Twice by the Latins, in return repellVI. 
Asham'd at length, to the third charge they ran — 
Both hosts resolv'd, and mingled man to man. 
Now dying groans are heard ; the fields are strow'd 
With falling bodies, and are drunk with blood. 
Arms, horses, men, on heaps together lie: 
Confus'd the fight, and more confus'd the cry. 
Orsilochus, who durst not press too near 
Strong Remulus at distance drove his spear, 
And struck the steel beneath his horse's ear. 
The fiery steed, impatient of the wound, 
Curvets, and, springing upwards with a bound, 
His helpless lord, cast backward on the ground. 
Catillus pierc'd Iolas first: then drew 
His reeking lance, and at Herminius threw, 
The mighty champion of the Tuscan crew. 
His neck and throat unarm'd, his head was bare, 
But shaded with a length of yellow hair : 
Secure, he fought, expos'd on ev'ry part, 
A spacious mark for swords, and for the fl} r ing dart. 
Across the shoulders came the feather'd wound ; 
Transfix'd, he fell, and doubled to the ground. 

The sands with streaming blood are sanguine dy'd 
And death, with honour sought on either side, 

Resistless, through the war Camilla rode, 
In danger unappalPd, and pleas'd with blood. 



220 &NE13. 

One side was bare for her exerted breast ; 

One shoulder with her painted quiver press'd* 

Now from afar her fatal jav'lins play : 

IVow with her ax's edge she hews her way 

Diana's arms upon her shoulder sound ; 

And when too closely press'd, she quits the ground, 

From her bent bow she sends a backward wound. 

Her maids, in martial pomp, on either side, 

Larina, Tulla, fierce Tarpeia, ride — 

Italians all — in peace, their queen's delight, 

In war, the bold companions of the fight. 

So march'd the Thracian Amazons of old, 
When Thermodon with bloody billows roll'd ; 
Such troops as these in shining arms were seen, 
When Theseus met in fight their maiden queen: 
Such to the field Penthesilea led, 
From the fierce virgin when the Grecians fled ; 
With such returned triumphant from the war, 
Her maids with cries attend the lofty car; 
They clash with manly force their moony shields ; 
With female shouts resound the Phrygian fields. 

Who foremost, and who last, heroic maid, 
On the cold earth were by thy courage laid? 
Thy spear, of mountain-ash, Eumenius first. 
With fury driv'n,from side to side tran^piere'd: 
A purple stream came spouting from the wound ; 
Bath'd in his blood he lies, and bites the ground. 
Liris and Pagasus at once she slew : 
The former, as the siacken'd reins he drew, 
Of his faint steed — the latter, as he stretch'd 
His arm to prop his friend — the jav'lin reach'd. 
By the same weapon, sent from the same hand, 
Both fall together, and both spurn the sand. 
Amastrus next is added to the slain ; 
The rest in rout she follows o'er the plain : 
Tereus, Harpalycus, Demophoon 
And Chromis, at full speed her fury shun. 



JEXEIS. 221 

Of ali her beauty's darts, not one she lost; 

Lac li was attended with a Trojan ghost. 

Young Ornytus bestrode a hunter steed, 

Swift for the chase, and of Apulian breed. 

Him, from afar, she spied in arms unknown: 

O'er his broad back an ox's hide was thrown ; 

His helm a wolf, whose gaping jaws were spread 

A cov'ring for his cheeks, and grinn'd around his nead. 

He clenched within his hand an iron prong, 

And towVd above the rest, conspicuous in the throng, 

Him soon she singled from the flying train, 

And slew with ease ; then thus insults the slain: 

M \'ain hunter! didst thou think through woods to chase 

The savage herd, a vile and trembling race ? 

Here cease thy vaunts, and own my victory: 

A woman warrior was too strong for thee. 

Vet, if the ghosts demand thecouqu'ror's name, 

Confessing great Camilla, sa\e thy shame." 

Then Buies and Orsilochus she slew, 

The bulkiest bodies of the Trojan crew — 

But Botes breast to breast: the spear descends 

Above the gorget, where his helmet ends, 

And o'er the shield which his left side defends. 

Orsilochus, and she, their coursers ply : 

He seems to follow, and she seems to fly. 

But in a narrower ring she makes the race ; 

And then he flies, and she pursues the chase. 

Gath'ring at length on her deluded foe, 

She swings her ax, and rises to the blow : 

Full on the helm behind, with such a sway 

The weapon falls, the riven steel gives way: 

He groans, he roars, he sues in vain for grace : 

Brains, mingled with his blood, besmear his face. 

Astonish'd Auuus just arrives by chance, 

To see his fall, nor further dares advance ; 

But, fixing on the horrid maid his eye, 

He stares, and shakes, and finds it vain to fly ; 



299 ^NEls. 

Yet, like a true Ligunan, born to cheat, 

(At least while Fortune favour'd his deceit) 

Cries out aloud, " What courage have you shown, 

Who trust your courser's strength, and not your owu? 

Forego the 'vantage of your horse s alight 5 

And then on equal terms begin the fight: 

It shall be seen, weak woman, what you can, 

When, foot to foot, you combat with a man." 

He said. She glows with anger and disdai-n, 

Dismounts with speed to dare him on the plain, 

And leaves her horse at large among her train ; 

With her drawn sword defies him to the tield, 

And, marching, lifts aloft her maiden shield. 

The youth, who thought his cunning did succeed, 

Reins round his horse, and urges all his speed, 

Adds the remembrance of the spur, and hides 

The goring rowels in his bleeding sides. 

" Vain fool, and coward !" said the lofty maid, 

41 Caught in the train, which thou thyself hast laid I 

On others practise thy Ligurian arts: 

Thin stratagems, and tricks of little hearts, 

Are lost on me: nor shalt thou safe retire, 

With vaunting lies to thy fallacious sire." 

At this, so fast her flying feet she sped, 
That soon she strain'd beyond his horse's head: 
Then turning short, at once she seiz'd the rein, 
And laid the boaster grov'ling on the plain. 
Not with more ease the falcon from above, 
T"isses, in middle air, the trembling dove, 
Then plumes the prey, in her strong pounces bound* 
The feathers, foai with blood, come tumbling to the 
ground. 

Now mighty Jove, from his superior height, 
With his broad eye surveys th' unequal fight. 
He fires the breast of Tarchon with disdain, 
And sends him to redeem th' abandoned plain. 
Between the broken ranks the Tuscan rides, 
And these encourages, and those he chides; 



*NEIS. 223 

Recalls each leader, by his name, from flight ; 
Renews their ardour, and restores the fight. 
" What panic fear has seiz'd your souls ? O shame, 
A brand perpetual of th' Etrurian name ! 
Cowards incurable i a woman's hand { 

Drives, breaks, and scatters your ignoble band ! 
Now cast away the sword, and quit the shield ! 
What use of weapons which you dare not wield? 
Not thus you fly your female foes by night, 
Nor shun the feast when the full bowls invite ; 
VV hen to fat oil 'rings the glad augur calls, 
And the shrill horn-pipe sounds to bacchanals. 
These are your studied cares, your lewd delight — 
Swift to debauch, but slow to manly fight." 
Thus having said, he spurs amid the foes, 
Not managmg the liie he meant to lose. 
The first he found, he seiz'd, with headlong haste, 
In his strong gripe, and clasp'd around the waist: 
'Tvvas Venulus, whom from his horse he tore, 
And, (laid athwart his own,) in triumph bore. 
Loud shouts ensue: the Latins turn their eyes, 
And view the unusual sight with vast surprise. 
The fiery Tarchon, flying o'er the plains, 
Press'd in his arms, the pond'rous prey sustains, 
Then, with his shorten'd spear, explores around 
His jointed arms, to fix a deadly wound. 
Nor less the captive struggles for his life: 
He writhes his body to prolong the strife, 
And, fencing lor his naked throat, exerts 
His utmost vigour, and the point averts. 

So stoops the yellow eagle from on high, 
And bears a speckled serpent through the sky, 
Fasl'ning his crooked talons on the prey: 
The pns'ner hisses through the liquid way; 
Resists the royal hawk; and though oppress'd, 
iShe tights in volumes, and erects her crest: 
Turn'cl to her foe, she stiffens ev'ry scale, 
And shoots her forky tongue, and whisks her threaten) ig 
taii, 



224 jENEis. 

Against the victor, all defence is weak: 
Th' imperial bird still plies her with his beak; 
He tears her bowels, and her breast lie gores, 
Then claps his pinions, and securely soars. 

Thus, through the midst of circling enemies, 
Strong Tarchon snatch'd and bore away his prize. 
The Tyrrhene troops, that shrunk belore, now press 
Tiie Latins, and presume the like success. 

Then Aruns, doom'd to death, his arts essay'd, 
To murder, unespied, the Volscian maid: 
This way and that, his winding course he bends, 
And, wheresoe'er she turns, her steps attends, 
When she retires victorious from the chase, 
He wheels about with care, and shifts his place: 
When, rushing on, she seeks her foes in fight, 
He keeps aloof, and keeps her still in sight: 
He threats and trembles, trying ev'ry way, 
Unseen to kill, and safely to betray. 

Chloreus, the priest of Cybele, from far, 
Glitt'ring in Phrygian arms amidst the war, 
Was by the virgin view'd. The steed he press'd 
Was proud with trappings ; and his brawny chest 
With scales of gilded brass was cover'd o'er: 
A robe of Tyrian dye the rider wore. 
With deadly wounds he gaird the distant foe; 
Gnossian his shafts, and Lycian was his bow: 
A golden helm his front and head surrounds; 
A gilded quiver from his shoulder sounds. 
Gold weav'd with linen, on his thighs he wore, 
With flow'rs of needle-work distinguish'd o'er, 
With golden buckles bound, and gather'd up before. 
Him the fierce maid beheld with ardent eyes, 
Fond and ambitious of so rich a prize, 
Or that the temple might his trophies hold, 
Or else to shine herself in Trojan gold. 
Blind in her haste, she chases him alone. 
And seeks his life, regardless of her own 



£.\ E1S 225 

This lucky moment the siy tailor chose; 

Then, starting from his ambush, up he rose, 

And threw, but first to heav'n aririress'd his vows: 

44 O patron of Soracte's high abodes ! 

Phoebus, the ruling pow'r among the gods! 

Whom first we serve ! whole woods of unctuous pine 

Are fell'd for thee, and to thy glory shine; 

By thee protected, with our naked soles, 

Thro' flames unsing'd we march, and tread the kindled 

coals. 
Give me, propitious pow'r, to wash away 
The stains of this dishonourable day : 
Nor spoils, nor triumph, from the fact I claim ; 
But with my future actions trust my fame. 
Let me, by stealth, this female plague o'ercome, 
And from the field return inglorious home." 

Apollo heard, and, granting half his pray'r, 
Shuffled in winds the rest, and toss'd in empty air. 
He gives the death desir'd \ his safe return 
By southern tempests to the seas is borne. 
Now, when the jav'lin whizz'd along the skies. 
Both armies on Camilla turn'd their eyes, 
Directed by the sound. Of either host, 
Th' unhappy virgin, though concern'd the mosi, 
Was only deaf; so greedy was she bent 
On golden spoils, and on her prey intent ; 
Till in her pap the winged weapon stood 
Infix'd,and deeply drunk the purple blood. 
Her sad attendants hasten to sustain 
Their dying lady drooping en the plain. 
Far from their sight the trembling Aruns flies, 
With beating heart, and fear confus'd with joys ; 
Nor dares he further to pursue his blow, 
Or e'en to bear the sight of his expiring foe. 

A», when the wolf has torn a bullock's hide 
At unawares, or ranch'd a shepherd's side, 
Conscious of his audacious deed, he flies. 
And claps his quivering tail between his thighs: 

VOL. IL 15 



226 JCNEIS. 

So, speeding once, the wretch no more attends, 

But, spurring forward, herds among his friends. 

She wrench'd the jav'lin with her dying hands: 

But wedg'd within her breast the weapon stands: 

The wood she draws, the steely point remains; 

She staggers in her seat with agonizing pains ; 

(A gath'ring mist o'erclouds her cheerful eyes; 

And trom her cheeks the rosy colour flies) 

Then turns to her, whom, of her female train, 

She trusted most, and thus she speaks with pain: 

" Acca 'tis past ! he swims before my sight, 

Inexorable Death : and claims his right. 

Bear my last words to Turnus: fly with speed, 

And bid him timely to my charge succeed, 

Repel the Trojans, and the town relieve — 

farewell ! and in this kiss my parting breath receive ri 

She said, and, sliding, sunk upon the plain : 

Dying, her open'd hand forsakes the rein : 

Siiort and more short, she pants: by slow degrees 

Her mind the passage from her body frees, 

She drops her sword ; she nods her plumy crest, 

Her drooping head declining on her breast: 

In the last sigh her struggling soul expires, 

And, murm'ring with disdain, to Stygian sounds retires 

A shout, that struck the golden stars, ensu'd ; 
Despair and rage, and languished fight renew 'd. 
The Trojan troops and Tuscan, in a line, 
Advance to charge ; the mix'd Arcadians join. 

But Cynthia's maid, high seated, from afar 
Surveys the field, and fortune of the war, 
Uinnov'd a while, till, prostrate on the plain, 
Welt'ring in blood, she sees Camilla slain, 
And, round her corpse, of friends and foes a fighting 

train. 
Then, from the bottom of her breast, she drew 
A mournful sigh, and these sad words ensue: 
" Too dear a fine, ah, much lamented maid ! 
For warring with the Trojans, thou hast paid . 



Nor aught availed, in this unhappy strife, 

Diana's sacrsd arms to save thy life. 

Yet unreveng'd the goddess will not leave 

Her vot'ry's death, nor wkh vain sorrow grievo. 

Branded the wretch, and be his name abhorr'd ; 

But after-ages shall thy praise record. 

TV inglorious coward soon shall press the plain: 

Thus vows thy queen, and thus the Fates ordain. 

High o'er the ne*d, there stood a hilly mound- 
Sacred the place, and spread with oaks around — 
Where, in a marble to nb, Dercenus, lay, 
A king that once in Latium bore the sway. 
The beauteous Opis thither bent her flight, 
To mark the traitor Aruns from the height. 
Him id refulgent arms she soon espied, 
Swoln with success ; and loudly thus she cried: 
44 Thy backward steps, vain boaster, are too late: 
Turn, like a man, at length, and meet thy fate. 
Charg'd with my message to Camilla go, 
And say I sent thee to the shades below — 
An honour undeserved from Cynthia's bow." 

She said, and from her quiver chose with speed 
The winged shaft, predestin'd for the deed ; 
Then to the stubborn yew her strength applied 
Till the far distant horns approach'd on either side. 
The bow-string touched her breast, so strong she drew; 
Whizzing in air the fatal arrow flew. 
At once the twanging bow and sounding dart 
The traitor heard, and felt the point within his heart. 
Him, beating with his heels in pangs of death, 
His flying friends to foreign fields bequeath. 
The conquering damsel, with expanded wings, 
The welcome message to her mistress brings. 

Their leader lost, the Volscians quit the field ; 
And, unsustain'd, the chiefs of Turnus yield. 
The frighted soldiers, when their captains fly, 
More on their speed than on their strength rely. 



228 JENEIS. 

Confus'd in flight, they bear each other down, 

And spur their horses headlong to the town. 

Driv'n by their foes, and to their fears resigned, 

i\ot once they turn, but take their wounds behind. 

These drop the shield, and those the lance forego, 

Or on their shoulders bear the slacken'd bow. 

The hoofs of horses with a rattling sound, 

Beat short and thick, and shake the rotten ground. 

Black clouds of dust come roiling in the sky, 

And o'er the darken'd walls and rampires fly. 

The trembling matrons, from their lofty stands, 

Rend heav'n with female shrieks, and wring their hands. 

All pressing on, pursuers and pursu'd, 

Are crush'd in crowds, a mingled multitude. 

Some happy few escape: the throng too late 

Rush on for entrance, till they choke the gate. 

E'en in the sight of home, the wretched sire 

Looks on, and sees his helpless son expire. 

Then, in a fright, the folding gates they close, 

But leave their friends excluded with their foes. 

The vanquish'd cry ; the victors loudly shout: 

*Tis terror all within, and slaughter all without. 

Blind in their fear, they bounce against the wall, 

Or, to the moats -pursu'd, precipitate their fall. 

The Latian virgins, valiant with despair, 
Arm'd on the tow'rs, the common danger share: 
So much of zeal their country's cause inspir'd: 
So much Camilla's great example fir'd. 
Poles, sharpen'd in the flames, from high they throw, 
With imitated darts to gall the foe. 
Their lives, for godlike freedom they bequeath, 
And crowd each other to be first in death. 
Meantime to Turnus ambush'd in the shade, 
With heavy tidings came th' unhappy maid: 
" The Volsciaus overthrown- -Camilla kilPd — 
The foes, entirely masters of the field, 
Like a resistless flood, come rolling on: 
The cry goes off the plain, and thickens to the town." 



JENEIS. 229 

InflamM with rage, (for so the Furies fire 
The Daunian's breast, and so the Fates require) 
he leaves the hilly pass, the woods in vain 
Fossess'd, and downward issues on the plain. 
Scarce was he gone, when to the straits, now freed 
From secret foes, the Trojan troops succeed. 
Through the black forest and the ferny brake, 
Unknowingly secure, their way they take, 
From the rough mountains to the plain descend, 
And there, in order drawn, their line extend. 
Both armies now in open fields are seen •, 
Nor far the distance of the space between. 
Both to the city bend, iEneas sees, 
Through smoking fields, his hast'ning enemies; 
And Turnus views the Trojans in array, 
And hears the approaching horses proudly neigh- 
Soon had their hosts in bloody battle join'd ; 
But westward to the sea the sun declined. 
Intretich'd before the town both armies lie, 
Whilt. night with sable wings involves the sky. 



M N E I S. 



BOOK XII. 



ARGUMENT. 

Turnus challenges ^neas to a single combat: articles are 
a greet d on, but broken by the Rutuli, who wound iEneas, 
He if miraculously cured by Venus, forces Turnus to a duel, 
and concludes the poem with his death. 



W HEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the held, 
Their armies broken, and their courage quell'd, 
Himself become the mark of public spite, 
His honour question'd for the promised fight — 
The more he was with vulgar hate oppress' d 
The more his fury boiFd within his breast: 
Be rous'd his vigour for the last debate, 
Aiid raised his haughty soul to meet his fate. 

As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase, 
Ba makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace; 
B*«t. if the pointed jav'lin pierce his side, 
l^e lordly beast returns with double pride: 
He wrenches put the steel ; he roars ior pain ; 
His sides he lashes, and erects his mane: 
So Turnus fares: his eye-balls flash with fire ; 
Through his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire. 

Trembling with rage, around the court he ran, 
At length approach'd the king, and thus began: 
" No more excuses or delays: I stand 
In arms prepar'd to combat, hand tohaiid, 
This base deserter of his native land. 



AlNEIS. 231 

The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take 

The same conditions which himself did make. 

Renew the truce ; the solemn rites prepare. 

And to my single virtue trust the war. 

The Latians unconcern'd shall see the fight: 

This arm unaided shall assert your right: 

Tli en, if my prostrate body press the plain, 

To him the crown and beauteous bride remain." 

To whom the king sedaiely thus replied : 

11 Brave youth ! the more your valour lias been tiitd, 

The more becomes it us, with due respect 

To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect. 

You want not wealth, or a successive throne, 

Or cities which your arms have made your own: 

My towns and treasures are at your command ; 

And stor'd with blooming beauties is my land: 

Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees, 

Unmarried, fair, of noble families. 

Now let me speak, and you with patience hear, 

Things which perhaps may grate a lovers ear, 

But sound advice, proceeding from a heart 

Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art. 

The gods, by signs have manifestly shown, 

No prince, Italian born, shall heir my throne: 

Oft have our augurs, in prediction skilled. 

And oft our priests, a foreign son reveaFd. 

Yet, won by worth thai cannot be withstood, 

Bnb'd by my kindness to my kindred blood, 

L'rg'd by my wife, who would not be denied, 

1 promis'd my Lavinia for your bride : 

Her from her plighted lord by force I took: 

All ties of treaties, and of honour, broke: 

On your account I wagM an impious war— 

With what success, 'tis needless to declare; 

I and my snbjects feel ; and you have had your share. 

Twice vanquish'd while in bloody fields we strive 

Scarce in our walls, we keep our hopes alive: 



232 JENR1S. 

The rolling flood runs warm with human gore ; 
The bones of Latians blanch the neighb'nng shore. 
Why put I not an end to this debate, 
Still unresolved, and still a slave to fate? 
[f Tumus' death a lasting peace can give, 
Why should I not procure it whilst you live? 
Should I to doubtful arms your youth betray, 
What would my kinsmen, the Rutulians, say? 
And should you fall in light, (which heav'u defend!) 
How curse the cause, which hasten'd to his end 
The daughter's lover, and the father's friend ? 
Weigh in your mind the various chance of war: 
Pity your parent's age, and ease his care." 

Such balmy words he pour'd, but all in vain: 
The proffer' d med'cine but provok'd the pain, 
The wrathful youth, disdaining the relief, 
With intermitting sobs thus vents his grief: 
44 The care, O best of fathers ! which you take 
For my concerns, at my desire forsake. 
Permit me not to languish out my days, 
But make the best exchange of life for praise ; 
This arm, this lance, can well dispute the pri7e; 
And tiie blood follows, where the weapon flies. 
His goddess-mother is not near, to shroud 
The flying coward with an empty cloud." 

But now the queen, who fear'd for Turnus' life, 
And loath'd the hard conditions of the strife, 
Held him by force ; and, dying in his death, 
In these sad accents gave her sorrow breath : 
14 O Tumus ! 1 adjure thee by these tears, 
And whate'er price Amata's honour bears 
Within thy breast, since thou art all my hope, 
My sickly mind's repose, my sinking age's prop- 
Since on the safety of thy life alone 
Depends Latinus, and the Latian throne — 
Refuse me not this one, this only pray'r, 
To wave the combat, and pursue the war. 



BOOK XII. jENEIS. 233 

Whatever chance attends this fatal strife, 
Think it includes, in thine, Ainata's life 
1 cannot live a slave, or see my throne 
Usurp'd by strangers, or a Trojan son." 

At this, a flood of tears Lavinia shed ; 
A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread, 
Varying her cheeks by turns with white and red. 
The driving colours, never at a stay, 
Run here and there, and flush, and fade away. 
Delightful change! thus Indian iv'ry shows, 
Which with the bordering paint of purple glov/s ; 
Or lilies damask'd by the neighb'ring rose. 
The lover gaz'd, and, burning with desire, 
The more he look'd, the more he fed the fire: 
Revenge, and jealous rage, and secret spite, 
Roll in his breast, and rouse him to the fight. 

Then fixing on the queen his ardent eyes, 
Firm to his first intent, he thus replies: 
*Oh mother ! do not by your tears prepare 
Such boding omens, and prejudge the war, 
Resolv'd on fight, I am no longer free 
To shun my death, if heav'n my death decree" 
Then turning to the herald, thus pursues: 
" Go, greet the Trojan with ungrateful news: 
Denounce from me, that, when to-morrow's' light 
Shall gild the heav'ns, he need not urge the fight: 
The Trojan and Rutulian troops no more 
Shall dye, with mutual blood, the Latian shore: 
Our single swords the quarrel shall decide ; 
And to the victor be ihe beauteous bride." 

He said, and, striding on with speedy pace, 
He sought his coursers of the Thracian race. 
At his approach, they toss their heads on hi°-h, 
And, proudly neighing, promise victory, 
The sires of these Orithyia sent from far, 
To grace Pilumnus, when he went to war. 
The drifts of Thracian snows where scarce so white 
Nor northern winds in rleetness match'd their flight 



234 ^nejs. 

Officious grooms stand ready by his side: 
And some with combs their flowing manes divide, 
And others stroke their chests, and gently soothe 
their pride. 

He sheath'd his limbs in arms; a tempered mass 
Of golden metal those, and mountain-brass. 
Then to his head hisglitt'ring helm he tied, 
And girt his faithful felchion to his side. 
In his iEtnsean forge, the God of Fire 
That falchion laboured for the hero's sire, 
Immortal keenness on the blade bestow'd, 
And plung'd it hissing in the Stygian flood. 
Fropp'd on a pillar, which the ceiling bore, 
Was plac'd the lance Auruncan Actor wore; 
Which with such force he brandish'd in his hand, 
The tough ash trembled like an osier wand: 
Then cried, " O pond'rous spoil of Actor slain, 
And never yet by Turnus toss'd in vain ! 
Fail not this day thy wonted force : but go, 
Sent by this hand, to pierce the Trojan foe: 
Give me to tear his corslet from lfcs breast, 
And from that eunuch head to rend the crest; 
Dragg'd in the dust, his frizzled hair to soil, 
Hot from the vexing ir'n, and smear'd with fragrant oil." 

Thus while he raves, from his wide nostrils flies 
A fiery steam, and sparkles from his eyes. 
So fares the bull in his lov'd female's sight. 
Proudly he bellows, and preludes the fight: 
He tries his goring horns against a tree, 
And meditates his absent enemy ; 
He pushes at the winds ; he digs the strand 
With his black hoofs, and spurns the yellow sand, 
Nor less the Trojan, in his Lemnian arms, 
To future fight his manly courage warms: 
He whets his fury, and with joy prepares 
To terminate at once the liug'ring wars; 
To cheer his chiefs and tender son, relates 
What heav'n had promis'd, and expounds the fates. 



ANEI8. 23S 

Then to the Latian king he sends, to **»sn 
The rage of arms, and ratify the peace. 

The morn ensuing, from the mountain's height, 
Had scarcely spread the skies with rosy light; 
Th' etherial coursers, bounding from the sea, 
From out their flaming nostrils breath'd the da? ; 
When now the Trojan and Rutulian guard, 
Jn friendly labour join'd, the list prepar'd. 
Beneath the walls, they measure out the space; 
Then sacred altars rear, on sods ci grass, 
Where with religious rites, their common troua 

they place. 
In purest white, the priests their heaos atiire. 
And living waters bear, and holy fu*s : 
And o'er their linen hoods and shaded navr. 
Long twisted wreaths of sacred vervain wea».\ 

In order issuing from the town, appear© 
The Latin legion, arm'd with pointed sneavs: 
And from the fields, advancing on a line, 
The Trojan and the Tuscan lorces join: 
Their various arms afford a pleasing sighi: 
A peaceful train the} 7 seem, in peace prepar'd for fight 

Betwixt the ranks the proud commanders nae, 
Glitt'ring with gold, and vests in purple amo. — 
Here Mnestheus, author of the iMemmiau Unc, 
And there Messapus, bom of seed divme. 
The sign is giv'n ; and, round the listed spar*;, 
Each man in order fills his proper place. 
Reclining on their ample shields, thev stand, 
And fix their pointed lances in the sand. 
Now, studious of the sight, a nunrrous throng 
Of either sex promiscuous, old anu young, 
Swarm from the town : by those who rest behind, 
The gates and walls, and houses' tops, are Jin' J. 

Meantime the queen of heav'n beheld the si°nt 
With eyes unpleas'd, from mount Albano's hej^ni: 
(Since call'd Albano by succeeding; lame. 
But then an empty bill, without a name* 



236 iENEIS. 

She thence surveyed the field, the Trojan pow'rs, 
The Latian squadrons, and Laurentine tow'rs. 
Then thus the goddess of the skies bespake, 
With sighs and tears, the goddess of the lake ; 
King Turnus' sister, once a lovely maid, 
Ere to the lust of lawless Jove betrav'd — 
Compress'd by force, but, by the grateful god, 
Now made the Nai's of the neigh b' ring flood. 
" O nymph, the pride of living lakes ! (said she) 

most renown'd, and most belov'd by me ! 
Long hast thou known, nor need I to record, 
The wanton sallies of my wandYmg lord. 
Of ev'ry Latian fair, whom Jove misled 

To mount by stealth my violated bed, 

To thee alone I grudg'd not his embrace, 

But gave a part of heav'n, and an unenvied pi? 

Now learn from me thy near approaching grief, 

Nor think my wishes want to thy relief. 

While Fortune favourM, nor heav'n's king denied 

To lend my succour to the Latian side, 

1 sav'd thy brother, and the sinking state : 
But now he struggles with unequal fate, 

And goes, with gods averse, o'ermatch'd in might, 

To meet inevitable death in fight : 

Nor must I break the truce, nor can sustain the 

sight. 
Thou, if thou dar'st, thy present aid supply: 
It well becomes a sister's care to try." 

At this the lovely nymph, with grief oppressed, 
Thrice tore her hair, and beat her comely breast. 
To whom Satu/nia thus: " Thy tears are late: 
Haste, snatch him, if he can be snatchVl from fate: 
New tumults kindle; violate the truce: 
Who knows what changeful Fortune may produce f 
'Tis not a crime V attempt what I decree; 
Or, if it were, discharge the crime on me." 
She said, and, sailing on the winged wind, 
Left the sad nymph suspended in her mind, 



jzsvas. 237 

And now in pi np the peaceful kmgs appear: 
Four steeds the chariot of Latinus bear: 
Twelve golden beams around his temples play, 
To mark, his lineage from the god of day. 
Two snowy coursers Turnus 1 chariot yoke, 
And in his hand two massy spears he shook: 
Then issu'd from the camp in arms divine, 
>Eneas, author of the Roman line ; 
And by his side Ascanius took his place, 
The second hope of Rome's immortal race. 
Adorn'd in white, a rev'rend priest appears, 
And, off 'rings to the flaming altars bears — 
A porket, and a lamb that never suffer'd shears. 
Then to the rising sun he turns his eyes, 
And strews the beasts design'd for sacrifice, 
With salt and meal: with Tike officious care 
He marks their foreheads, and he clips their hair. 
Betwixt their horns the purple wine he sheds, 
With the same gen'rous juice the flame ne feeds. 
iEneas then unsheath'd his shining sword, 
And thus with pious pray'rs the gods ador'd: 
44 All-seeing sun ! and thou, Ausonian soil, 
For which I have sustain'd so long a toil : 
Thou, king of heav'n ! and thou, the queen of air, 
Propitious now, and reconcil'd by pray'r! 
Thou, god of war, whose unresisted sway 
The labours and events of arms obey ! 
Ye living fountains, and ye running floods ! 
All powers of ocean, all etherial gods ! 
Hear, and bear record : if I fall in field, 
Or, recreant in the fight, to Turnus yield, 
My Trojans shall increase Evander's town ; 
Ascanius shall renounce th' Ausonian crown: 
All claims, all questions of debate shall cease 
Nor he, nor they, with force infringe the peace. 
But, if my juster arms prevail in fight, 
(As sure thev shall, if I divine aright) 



My Trojans shall not o''er th' Italians reign: 

Both equal, both unconquer'd, shall remain, 

Jmn'd in their laws, their lands, and their abodes; 

I ask but altars for my weary gods. 

Tiie care of those religious rites be mine: 

The crown to king Latinus I resign: 

His be the sov'reign sway. Nor will I share 

His po\v*r in peace, or his command in war. 

For me, my friends another town shall frame, 

And bless the rising tow'rs with fair Lavinia's name." 

Thus he. Then with erected eyes and hands, 
The Latian king before his altar stands. 
" By the same rieav'n, (said he) and earth and main, 
And all the pow'rs that all the three contain ; 
By hell below, and by that upper god, 
Whose thunder signs the peace, who seals it with hit 

nod; 
So let Latonia's double offspring hear, 
And double-fronted Janus, what I swear: 
I touch the sacred altars, touch the flames, 
And all those pow'rs attest, and all their names: 
Whatever chance befall on either side, 
No term of time this union shall divide: 
No force, no fortune, shall my vows unbind, 
Or shake the stedfast tenor of my mind; 
Not tho' the circling seas should breaiv their bound, 
O'erflow the shores, or sap the solid ground ; 
Not tho' the lamps of heav'n their spheres forsake, 
Huri'd down, and hissing in the nether lake: 
E'en as this roval sceptre (for he bore 
A sceptre in his hand) shall never more 
Shootout in branches, or renew the birth — 
An orphan now, cut from the mother-earth 
By the keen axe, dishonour'd of its hair, 
And cas'd in brass for Latian kings to bear." 

When thus in public view the peace was tied 
With solemn vows, and sworn on either side, 



j&mis. 239 

All dues perform'd which holy rites require, 
The victim beasts, are slain before the fire, 
The trembling entrails from their bodies torn, 
And to the fatten'd flames in chargers borne. 

Already the Rutulians drem'd their man 
O'ermatch'd in arms, before the fight began. 
First rising fears are whisper'd thro' the crowd ; 
Then, gath'ring round, they murmur more aloud. 
Now , side to side, they measure with their eyes 
The champions' bulk, their sinews, and their size: 
The nearer they approach, the more is known 
Th' apparent, disadvantage of their own. 
Turn us himself appears in public sight 
Conscious of fate, desponding of the fight. 
Slowly he moves, and at his altar stands 
With eyes dejected, and with trembling hands: 
And while he mutters undistinguish'd pray'rs, 
A livid deadness in his cheeks appears. 

With anxious pleasure when Juturna view'd 
Th' increasing fright of the mad multitude, 
When their short sighs and thick'ning sobs she heard 
And found their ready minds for change prepaid ; 
Dissembling her immortal form, she took 
Camertes' mien, his habit, and his look — 
A chief of ancient blood : — in arms well known 
Was his great sire, and he his greater son. 
His shape assumed, amid the ranks she ran, 
And, hum'ring their first motions, thus began : 
" For shame, Rutulians ! can you bear the sight 
Of one expos'd for all, in single fight ? 
Can we, before the face of heav'n, confess 
Our coinage colder, or our numbers less? 
View all the Trojan host, th' Arcadian band, 
And Tuscan army : count them as they stand : 
Undaunted to the battle if we go, 
Scarce ev'ry second man will share a foe. 
Turnus, 'tis true, in this unequal strife. 
Shall lose, with honour, his devoted life, 



240 JENKIS. 

Or change it rather for immortal fame, 
Succeeding to the gods, from whence he came 
But you, a servile and inglorious band, 
For foreign lords shall sow your native land, 
Those fruitful fields, your fighting fathers gain'd, 
Which have so long their lazy sons sustain'd." 

With words like these, she carried her design. 
A rising murmur runs along the line. 
Then e'en the city troops, and Latians, tir'd 
With tedious war, seem with new souls inspir'd: 
Their champion's fate with pity they lament, 
And of the league, so lately sworn, repent. 
Nor fails the goddess to foment the rage 
With lying wonders, and a false presage ; 
But adds a sign, which, present to their eyes, 
Inspires new courage, and a glad surprise. 
For, sudden, in the fiery tracts above, 
Appears in pomp th' imperial bird of Jove: 
A plump of fowl he spies, that swim the lakes, 
And o'er their heads his sounding pinions shakes ; 
Then, stooping on the fairest of the train, 
In his strong talons truss 1 d a silver swan. 
Tli' Italians wonder at th 1 unusual sight : 
But, while he lags, and labours in his flighi, 
Behold, the dastard fowl return anew, 
And with united force the foe pursue: 
Clam'rous around the royal hawk they fly, 
And, thick'ning in a cloud, o'ershade the sky. 
They cuff, they scratch, they doss his airy course ; 
.Nor can th' encumber' d bird sustain their force ; 
iBut, vex'd, not vanquish'd, drops the pond'rous prey 
And, lighten'd of his burden, wings his way. 

Th' Ausonian bands with shouts salute the sight, 
Eager of action, and demand the fight. 
Then king Tolumnius, vers'd in augurs 1 arts, 
Cries out, and thus his boasted skill imparts: 
44 At length 'tis granted, what I long desir'd .' 
This, this is what my frequent vows reu^'iir'Q 



241 



Ye gods ! [ take your omen and obey. — 
Advance, my friends, and charge ! i lead ihe way. 
These are the foreign foes, whose impious band, 
Like that rapacious bird, infest our land : 
But soon, like him, they shall be forc'd to sea 
By strength united, and forego the prey. 
Vour timely succour to your country bring ; 
Hasten to rescue, and redeem your king." 

He said : and pressing onward through the crew, 
Pois'd in his lifted arm, his lance he threw. 
The winged weapon, whistling in the wind, 
Came driving on, nor missM the mark design'd. 
At once the cornal rattled in the skies : 
At once tumultuous shouts and clamours rise. 
Nine brothers in a goodly band there stood, 
Born of Arcadian, mix'd with Tuscan blood, 
Gylippus' sons: the fatal javTm flew, 
Aim'd at the midmost of the friendly crew. 
A passage through the jointed arms it found, 
Just where the belt was to the body bound, 
And struck the gentle youth extended on the ground. 
Then, fir'd with pious rage, the genVous train 
Run madly forward to revenge the slain. 
And some with eager haste their jav'lins throw ; 
And some with sword in hand assault the foe. 

The wish'd insult the Latine troops embrace, 
And meet their ar<tot*r in the middle space. 
The Tuscans, Trojans, and Arcadian line, 
With equal courage obviate their design. 
Peace leaves the violated fields ; and hate 
Both armies urges to their mutual fate, 
With impious haste their altars are o'erturn'd, 
The sacrifcce half broil'd, and half unburn' cL 
Thick storms of steel fom either army fly, 
And clouds of clashing darts obscure the sky: 
Brands from the fire are missive weapons made, 
With charger*, bowls, and ail the priestly trade. 

VOL. II 16 



242 jENEis. 

Latinos, frighted, hastens from the fray, 

And bears his unregarded gods away. 

These on their horses vault • those yoke the car; 

The rest, with swords on high, run headlong to the war. 

Messapus, eager to confound the peace, 
Spurr'd his hot courser through the fighting press, 
At king Aulestes, by his purple known 
A Tuscan prince, and by his regal crown ; 
And, with a shock encount'ring, bore him down. 
Backward he fell: and, as his fate design'd, 
The ruins of an altar were behind : 
There pitching on his shoulders and his head, 
Amid the scatt'ring fires he lay supinely spread. 
The beamy spear, descending from above, 
His cuirass pierc'd, and through his body drove. 
Then, with a scornful smile, the victor cries 
" The gods have found a fitter sacrifice." 
Greedy of spoils; th' Italians strip the dead 
Of his rich armour, and uncrown his head. 

Priest Cornaeus arm'd his better hand, 
From his own altar, with a blazing brand ; 
And, as Ebusus with a thundering pace 
Advanced to battle, dash'd it on his face: 
His bristly beard shines out with sudden fires; 
The crack'ling crop a noisome scent expires. 
Following the blow, he seiz'd his curling crown 
With his left hand ; his other cast him down. 
The prostrate body with his knees he press'd. 
And plung'd his holy poniard in his breast. 

While Podoliriu-s, with his sword, pursued 
The shepherd Alsus through the flying crowd, 
Swiftly he turns, and aims a deadly blow 
Full on the front of his unwary foe. 
The broad axe enters with a crashing sound, 
And cienves the chin witii one continued wound 
Warm blood, and mingled brains, besmear his arms 
around. 



JENETS. 543 

An iron sleep his stupid eyes oppressed 

And seiz'd their heavy lid's in endJess rest, 

But good .Eneas rush'd amid the bands: 

Bare was his head, and naked were his hands, 

In sign of truce: then thus he cries aloud : 

44 What sudden rage, what new desire of blood, 

Inflames your alter'd minds? O Trojans! cease 

from impious arms, nor violate the peace. 

By human sanctions, and by laws divine, 

The terms are all agreed ; the war is mine. 

Dismiss your fears, and let the fight e.nsue; 

This hand alone shall right the gods and you, 

Our injur'd altars, and their broken vow, 

To this avenging sword the faithless Turnus owe." 

Thus while he spoke, unmindful of defence, 
A winged arrow struck the pious prince. 
But, whether from some human hand it came, 
Or hostile god, is left unknown by fame : 
No human hand, or hostile god, was found, 
To boast the triumph of so base a wound. 

When Turnus saw the Trojan quit the plain, 
His chiefs dismay'd, his troops a fainting train, 
Th 1 unhop'd event his heightened soul inspires: 
At once his arms and coursers he requires; 
Then, with a leap, his lofty chariot gains, 
And with a ready hand assumes the reins. 
He drives impetuous, and. where'er he goes, 
He leaves behind a lane of slaughtered toes. 
These his lance reaches ; over those be rolls 
Hib rapid car, and crushes out their souls. 
In vain the vanquished My: the victor sends 
The dead men's weapon's at their living friends. 

Thus on the banks of Hebrus' freezing flood, 
The god of battles, in his angry mood, 
Clashing his sword against his brazen shield, 
Lets loose the reins, and scours along the field: 
Before the wind his fiery loursers fly: 
Groans the sad earth, rebounds the rattling sky, 



24 4 JEKEIS. 

Wrath, Terroi, Treason, and Despair, 
(Dire faces, and deform'd) surround the car- 
Friends of the god, and followers of the war. 

With fury not unlike, nor less disdain, 
Exulting Turnus flies along the plain ; 
His smoking horses at their utmost speed, 
He lashes on ; and urges o'er the dead. 
Their fetlocks run with blood, and when they bound, 
The gore and gath'ring dust are dash'd around. 
Thamyrisand Fholus, masters of the war, 
1 ie kill'd at hand, but Sthenelus afar: 
From far the sons of Imbrasus he slew, 
Glaucus and Lades, of the Lycian crew — 
Both taught to tight on foot, in battle join'd, 
Or mount the courser that outstrips the wind. 

Meantime Fumedes, vaunting in the field, 
New fir'd the Trojans, and their foes repeli'd. 
This son of Dolon bore his grand sire's name, 
But emulated more his father's fame — 
Hif guileful father, sent a nightly spy, 
The Grecian camp and order to descry — 
Hard enterprise ! and well he might require 
Achilles' car and horses, for his hire: 
But, met upon the scout, tlv JEiolian prince 
In death bestow'd a juster recompense. 

Fierce Turnus view'd the Trojan from afar 
And launch'd his jav'lin from his lofty car, 
Then lightly leaping down, pursu'd the blow T , 
And, pressing with his foot his prostrate foe, 
Wrench'd from his feeble hold the shining sword, 
And plung'd it in the bosom of its lord. 
" Possess," said he, " the fruit of all thy pains, 
And measure at thy length, our Latian plains, 
Thus are my foes rewarded by my hand : 
Thus may they build their town, and thus enjoy the 
land !" 

Then Dares, Butes, Sybaris he slew, 
Whom o'er his neck the flound'rin^ courser threw 



£NEIS. 245 

As when loud Boreas, with his blust'ring train, 
Stoops from above, incumbent on the main, 
Where'er he flies, he drives the rack before, 
And rolls th 1 billows on the iEgean shore: 
So, where resistless Turnus takes his course, 
The scatter'd squadrons bend before his force. 
His crest of horse's hair is blown behind 
By adverse air, and rustles in the wind. 

This haughty Phegeus saw with high disdain, 
And, as the chariot roll'd along the plain, 
Light from the ground he leap'd, and seiz'd the rein 
Thus hung in air, he still retained his hold, 
The coursers frighted, and their course controllM. 
The lance of Turnus reach'd him as he hung, 
And pierc'd his plated arms, but pass'd along, 
And only rais'd the skin. He turn'd, and held 
Against his threatning foe his ample shield, 
Then call'd for aid; but, while he cried in vain, 
The chariot bore him backward on the plain. 
He lies revers'd : the victor king descends, 
And strikes so justly where his helmet ends, 
He lops the head. The Latian fields are drunk 
With streams that issue from the bleeding trunk. 

While he triumphs, and while the Trojans yield, 
The wounded prince is forc'd to leave the field: 
Strong Mnestheus, and Achates, often tried, 
And young Ascanius, weeping by his side, 
Conduct him to his tent. Scarce can he rear 
His limbs from earth, supported on his spear. 
Resolv'd in mind, regardless of the smart, 
He tugs with both his hands, and breaks the dart 
The steel remains. No readier way he found 
To draw the weapon, than t' enlarge the wound. 
Eager of fight, impatient of delay, 
He begs; and his unwilling friends obey. 

lapis was at hand to prove his art, 
Whose blooming youth so fir'd Apollo's heart, 
That, for his love, he proffer' d to bestow 
Hi* tuneful harp, and his unerring bow 



246 jBNEIS. 

The pious youth, more studious how to save 

Si is aged sire, now sinking to the grave, 

Preferr'd the pow'r of plants and silent praise 

Of healing arts, before Phoebean bays. 

Propp'd on his lance, the pensive hero stood, 

And heard and saw, unmov'd, the mourning crowd. 

The fam'd physician tucks his robes around 

With ready hands, and hastens to the wound. 

With gentle touches he perforins his part, 

This way and that, soliciting the dart, 

And exercises all his heav'nly art. 

All soft'ning simples, known of sovereign use, 

fie presses out, and pours their noble juice. 

These first infus'd, to lenify the pain — 

lie tugs with pincers, but he tugs in vain. 

Then to the patron of his art he pray'd: 

The patron of his art refus'd his aid. 

Meantime the war approaches to the tents: 
Tli' alarm grows hotter, and the noise augments: 
The driving dust proclaims the danger near ; 
And first their friends, and then their foes appear: 
Their friends retreat, their foes pursue the rear. 
The camp is fill'd with terror and affright: 
The hissing shafts within the trench alight: 
An undistirguish'd noise ascends the sky — 
The shouts of those who kill, and groans of those 
who die. 

But now the goddess-mother, mov'd with grief, 
And piere'd with pity, hastens her relief. 
A branch of healing dittany she brought, 
Which in the Cretan fields with care she sought— 
(Rough is the stem, which woolly leaves surround: 
The leaves withflow'rs, the flow'rs with purple crownVJ> 
Weil known to wounded goats; a sure relief 
To draw the pointed steel, and ease the grief. 
This Venus brings, in clouds involved, and brews 
Th' extracted liquor with ambrosian -Jews, 



jEKKis. 247 

And od'rous penacee. . Unseen she stands, 
Temp'ringthe mixture with her beav'nly hands, 
And pours it in a bowl, already crown'd 
With juice of med'c'nal herbs prepaid to bathe the 

wound. 
The leech, unknowing of superior art 
Which aids the cure, with this foments the part; 
And in a moment, ceas'd the raging smart. 
Stanch'd is the blood, and in the bottom stands: 
The steel, but scarcely touch'd with tender hands, 
Moves up, and follows of its own accord : 
And health and vigour are at once restor'd. 
lapis first perceiv'd the closing wound ; 
And first the footsteps of a god he found. 
" Arms! arms!" he cries :' 4 the sword and shield prepare, 
And send the willing chief renew'd lo war, 
This is no mortal work, no cure of mine, 
Nor art's effect, but done by hands divine. 
Some god our gen'ral to the battle sends ; 
Some god preserves his life lor greater ends." 

The hero arms in haste : his hands infold 
His thighs with cuishes of refulgent gold : 
Infiam'd to fight and rushing to the field, 
That hand sustaining the celestial shield, 
This gripes the lance, and with such vigour shakes, 
That to the rest the oeamy weapon quakes. 
Then with a close embrace he strain'd his son, 
And, kissing through his helmet thus begun: 
44 My son ! from my example learn to war, 
In camps to suffer, and in fields to dare: 
But happier chance than mine attend thy care ! 
This day my hand thy tender age shall shield, 
And crown with honours of the conquer'd field: 
Thou, when thy riper years shall send thee forth 
To toils of war, be mindful of my worth : 
Assert thy birthright; and m arms be known 
For Hectors nephew and .Eneas' son. 1 ' 



248 ^NEIS. 

He said ; and, striding, issued on the plain. 
Anteus and Mnestheus, and a numerous train* 
Attend his steps: the rest their weapons take, 
And crowding to the field tiie camp forsake. 
A cloud of blinding dust is rais'd around ; 
Labours beneath their feet the trembling ground. 

Nor Turnus, posted ou a hill, from far 
Beheld the progress of the moving war: 
With him the Latins view'd the cover'd plains ; 
And the chill blood ran backward in their veins. 
Juturna saw th' advancing troops appear, 
And heard the hostile sound, and fled for fear, 
iEneas leads ; and draws a sweeping train, 
Clos'd in their ranks, and pouring on the plain 
As, when a whirlwind, rushing to the shore 
From the mid ocean, drives the waves before ; 
The painful hind with heavy heart foresees 
The flatted fields, and slaughter of the trees ; 
With such impetuous rage the prince appears, 
Before his doubled front ; nor less destruction bears. 
And now both armies shock in open field ; 
Osiris is by strong Thymbneus kill'd. 
Archetius, Ufens, Epulon, are slain 
(Allfam'd in arms, and of the Latian train) 
By Gyas', Mnestheus', and Achates' band. 
The fatal augur falls, by whose command 
The truce was broken, and whose lance, embru'd 
With Trojan blood, th' unhappy fight renew'd. 
Loud shouts and clamours rend the liquid sky ; 
And o'er the fields the frighted Latins fly. 
The prince disdains the dastards to pursue, 
Nor moves to meet in arms the fighting few. 
Turnus alone, amid the dusky plain, 
He seeks, and to the combat calls in vain. 
Juturna heard, and, seiz'd with mortal fear, 
Forc'd from the beam her brother's charioteer ; 
Assumes his shape, his armour, and his mien, 
And, like Metiscus, in his seat is seen. 



249 



As the black swallow near the palace plies; 
O'er empty courts, and under arches, riles; 
Now hawks aloft, now skims along the flood, 
To furnish her loquacious nest with food : 
So drives the rapid goddess o'er the plains ; 
The smoking horses run with loosen'd reins, 
She steers a various course among the foes: 
Now here, now there, her conquering brother shows ; 
Now with a strait, now with a wheeling flight. 
She turns and bends, but shuns the single fight. 
/Eneas, firM with fury, breaks the crowd, 
And seeks his foe, and cails by name aloud : 
lie runs within a narrower ring, and tries 
To stop the chariot, but the chariot flies. 
If he but gain a glimpse, Juturna fears, 
And far away the Daunian hero bears. 

What should he do ? Nor arts nor arms avail ; 
And various cares in vain his mind assail. 
The great Messapus, thund'ring through the field, 
In his left hand two pointed jav'lins held : 
Enoount'ring on the prince, one dart he 6ie\v % 
And with unerring aim, and utmost vigour, threw. 
/En>eas saw it come, and, stooping low 
Beneath his buckler, shunn'd the threatening blow. 
The weapon hiss'd above ins head, and tore 
The waving plume, which on his helm he wore. 
Forc'd by this hostile act, and fir'd with spite, 
That flying Turnus still decliird the fighi, 
The prince, whose piety had long repelPd 
His inborn ardour now invades the field ; 
1 mokes the pow'rs of violated peace, 
Their rites and injur'd altars to redress, 
Then to his rage, abandoning the rein, 
V\ ith blood and slaughter'd bodies fills the plain. 
What god can tell, what numbers can display, 
The various labours of that fatal day ? 
\\ hai chiefs and champions fell on either side, 
in combat slain, cr by what_deaths they died? 



250 iENEIS. 

Whom Turnus, whom the Trojan hero kill'd? 
Who shar'd the fame and fortune of the field ? 
love ! couldst thou view, and not avert thy sight, 
Two jarring nations join'd in cruel fight, 
Whom leagues of lasting love so shortly shall unite ? 

.Eneas first, Rutulian Sucro found, 
Whose valour made the Trojans quit their ground ; 
Betwixt his ribs the jav'lin drove so just, 
ft reach'o! his heart, nor needs a second thrust. 
Now 1 urnus, at two blows, two brethren slew ; 
First from his horse fierce Amycus he threw: 
Then, leaping on the ground, on foot assail'd 
Diores, and in equal fight prevail'd. 
Their lifeless trunks he leaves upon the place; 
Their heads, distilling gore, his chariot grace. 

Three cold on earth the Trojan hero threw, 
Whom without respite at one charge he slew: 
Cethegus, Tanais, Talus, fell oppress'd, 
And sad Onythes, added to the rest— 
Of Theban blood, whom Peridia bore. 
Turnus two brothers from the Lycian shore, 
And from Apollo's fane to battle sent, 
O'erthrew : nor Phoebus could their fate prevent. 
Peaceful Menoetes after these he kill'd, 
Who long had shunu'd the dangers of the field: 
On Lerna's lake a silent life he led, 
And with his nets and angle earn'd his bread. 
Nor pompous cares, nor palaces, he knew, 
But wisely from the infectious world withdrew. 
Poor was his house: his father's painful hand 
Discbarg'd his rent, and plough'd another's land 

As flames among the lofty woods are thrown 
On dirT'rent sides, and both by winds are blown; 
The laurels crackle in the sputt'ring fire; 
The frighted sylvans from their shades retire: 
Or as two neighb'ring torrents fall from high, 
Rapid the}'' run i the foamy waters fry ; 



JENEIS. 251 

The\- roll to sea with unresisted force, 

And down the rocks precipitate their course: 

Not with less rage the rival heroes take 

Their difif'rent ways; nor less destruction make. 

With spears afar, with swords at hand, they strike; 

And zeal of slaughter fires their souls alike ; 

Like them, their dauntless men maintain the field : 

And hearts are pierc'd, unknowing how to yield: 

They blow for blow return, and wound for wound; 

And heaps of bodies raise the level ground. 
Mu nanus, boasting of his blood, that springs 

From a long royal race of Latian kings, 

Is by the Trojan from Ins chariot thrown : 
Crush'd with the weight of an unwieldy stone: 

Betwixt the wheels he fell; the wheels, that bor 

His living load, his dying body tore. 

His starting steeds, to shun the glitt'ring sword. 

Paw down his trampled limbs, forgetful of their lora. 

Fierce Hyllus threaten'd high, and, face to face, 
Affronted Turnus in the middle space: 
The prince encounter'd him in full career, 
And at his temples aim'd the deadly spear: 
So fatally the flying weapon sped, 
That through his brazen helm it pierc'd his head. 
Nor, Cisseus, couldst thou 'scape from Turnus' hand, 
In vain the strongest of th' Arcadian band: 
Nor to Cupentus could his gods afford 
Availing aid against th' jEnean sword, 
Which to his naked heart pursu'd the course; 
Nor could his piated shield sustain the force. 

loins fell, whom not the Grecian pow'rs, 
Nor great subverter of the Trojan tow'rs, 
"Were doom'd to kill, while heav'n prolong'd his date: 
But who can pass the bounds prefix'd by Fate? 
In high Lyrnessus, and in Troy, he held 
Two palaces, and was from each expeli'd; 
Of all the mighty man, the last remains 
A little spot of foreign earth contains. 



252 £NKI3. 

And now both hosts their broken troops unite 
In equal ranks, and mix in mortal fight. 
Serestus and undaunted Mnestheus join 
The Trojan, Tuscan, and Arcadian line; 
Sea-born Messapus, with Atinas, heads 
The Latin squadrons, and to battle leads. 
They strike ; they push ; they throng the scanty space 
Resolv'd on death, impatient of disgrace ; 
And, where one falls, another fills his place. 
li*e Cyprian goddess now inspires her son 
To leave th' unfinish'd fight, and storm the town* 
For, while he roils his eyes around the plain 
m quest of Turnus, whom he seeks in vain, 
He views th' ungaurded city from afar, 
In careless quiet, and secure of war. 
Occasion offers, and excites his mind 
To dare beyond the task he first design'd. 
Resolv'd he calls his chiefs: they leave the fight' 
Attended thus, he takes a neighb'ring height: 
The crowding troops about their gen'ral stand, 
All under arms, and wait his high command. 
Then thus the lofty prince : " Hear and obey 
Ve Trojan bands, without the least delay. 
Jove is "with us: and what 1 have decreed, 
Requires our utmost vigour, and our speed. 
Your instant arms against the town prenare, 
The source of mischief, and the seat of war 
This day the Latian tow'rs, that mate the sky, 
Shall, level with the plain, in ashes lie: 
The people shall be slaves, unless in time 
T hey kneel for pardon, and repent their crime. 
Twice have our foes been vanquished on the plain: 
Then shall I wait till Turnus will be slain ? 
Your force against the perjur'd city bend : 
There it began, and there the war shall end. 
The peace profan'd our rightful arms requires; 
Cleanse the polluted place with purging fires." 



JENEIS. 25S 

Tfe finish'd ; anc — one soul inspiring all — 
Fori./d in a wedge, the loot approach the wall. 
Without the town, an unprovided train 
Of gaping gazing citizens are slain. 
Some firebrands, others scaling ladders, bear; 
And those they toss aloft, and these they rear; 
The flames now launched, the feather'd arrows fly; 
And clouds of missive arms obscure the sky.* 
Advancing to the front, the hero stands, 
And, stretching out to heav'n his pious hands, 
Attests the gods, asserts his innocence, 
Upbraids with breach of faith th' A u son i an prince, 
Declares the royal honour doubly stainM, 
And twice the rites of holy peace profan'd. 

Dissenting clamours in the town arise: 
Each will be heard, and all at once advise. 
One part for peace, and one for war, contends: 
Some would exclude their foes, and some admit their 

friends. 
The helpless king is hurried in the throng, 
And (whate'er tide prevails) is borne along. 

Thus, when the swain, within a hollow rock, 
Invades the bees with suffocating smoke, 
They run around, or labour on their wings, 
Disus'd to flight, and shoot their sleepy stings; 
To shun the bitter fumes, in vain they try ; 
Black vapours, issuing from the vent, involve the sky, 
But Fate and envious Fortune now prepare 
To plunge the Latins in the last despair. 
The queen, who saw the foes invade the town, 
And brands on tops of burning houses thrown, 
Cast round her eyes, distracted with her fear: — 
No troops of Turnus in the field appear. 
Once more she stares abroad, but still in vain; 
And then concludes the royal youth is slain. 
Mad with her anguish, impotent to bear 
The mighty grief, she loaths the vital air. 



254 /F.NKIS. 

She calls herself the cause of all this ill, 

And owns the dire effects of her ungovemM will: 

She raves against the gods ; she beats hor breast ; 

She tears with both tier hands her purple vest: 

Then round a beam a running noose she tied, 

And fasien'd by the neck, obscenely died. 

Soon as the fatal news by fame was blown, 

And to her dames, and to her daughter known, 

The sad Lavinia rends her yellow hair, 

And rosy cheeks: the rest her sorrow sh-aie: 

With shrieks the palace rings, and madness of despair 

Tie spreading rumour fills the public place: 

Confusion, fear, distraction, and disgrace, 

And silent shame, are seen in ev'ry face. 

Latinus tears his garments as he goes, 

Both for his public and his private woes: 

With filth his venerable heard besmears; 

And sordid dust deforms his silver hairs. 

And much he blames the softness of his mind, 

Obnoxious to the c-harms of womankind, 

And soon reduc'd to change what he so well de- 

sign'd — 
T > break the solemn league so long rtesir'd, 
Nor finish'd what his fates, and those of Troy, requir'A 

Now Turnus rolls aloof o'er empty plains: 
And here and there some straggling foes he gleans. 
His riving coursers please him less and less, 
Asham'd of easy fight, and cheap success. 
Thus half contended, anxious in his mind, 
The distant cries come driving in the wind — * 
Shouts from the walls, but shouts in murmurs drown'd 
A jarring mixture, and a boding sound. 
'* Alas !" said he, " what mean these dismal cries ? 
What doleful clamours from the town arise?" 
<- onfus'd lie stops, and backward pulls the reins. 
She, who the driver's office now sustains, 
Replies: "Neglect, m) lord, these new alarms: 
Here right, and urge the fortune of your arms. 



jENefs. 255 

There want not others to defend the wall. 
If by your rival's hand th 1 Italians fall, 
So shall your fatal sword his friends oppress 
In honour equal, equal in success." 

To this the prince : " O sister ! — for I knew, 
The peace infringed proceeded first from you: 
I knew you, when you mingled first in fight: 
And now in vain you would deceive my sight — 
Why, goddess, this unprofitable care? 
Who sent you down from heav'n, involved in air, 
Your share of mortal sorrows to sustain, 
And see your brother bleeding on the plain ? 
For to what pow'r can TuriiUs have recourse, 
Or how resist his fate's prevailing force ? 
These eyes beheld Murranus bite the ground. 
Mighty the man, and mighty was the wound. 
I heard my dearest friend, with dying breath, 
My name invoking, to revenge his death. 
Brave Ufens fell with honour on the place, 
To shun the shameful sight of my disgrace. 
On earth supine, a manly corpse he lies ; 
His vest and armour are the victor's prize. 
Then shall [ see Laurentum in a flame, 
Which only wanted to complete my shame? 
How will the Latins hoot their champion's flight! 
How Drances will insult, and point them to the sight! 
Is death so hard to bear ?— Ye gods below ! 
(Since those above so small compassion show) 
Receive a soul, unsullied yet with shame, 
Which not belies my great forefather's name." 

He said : and, while he spoke, with flying speed 
Came Sages urging on his foamy steed : 
Fix'd on his wounded face a shaft he bore, 
And seeking Turnus, sent his voice before: 
44 Turnus! on }'Ou, on you alone, depends 
Our last relief: — compassionate your friend 
Like light'ning, fierce .Eneas, rolling on, 
With arms invests, with flames invades the town: 



256 -ENEIS. 

The brands are toss'd on high : the winds conspire 

To drive along the deluge of the fire. 

Ail eyes are fix'd on you : your foes rejoice: 

E'en the king staggers, and suspends his choice — 

Doubts to deliver or defend the town, 

Whom to reject, or whom to call his son. 

The queen, on whom your utmost hopes were plac'd, 

Herself suborning death, has breath'd her last. 

'Tis true, Messapus, fearless of his fate, 

With fierce Atinas' aid, defends the gate: 

On ev'ry side surrounded by the foe, 

The more they kill, the greater numbers grow ; 

An iron harvest mounts, and still remains to mow. 

You far aloof from your forsaken bands, 

Your rolling chariot drive o'er empty sands." 

Stupid he sate, his eyes on earth declin'd, 
And various cares revolving in his mind : 
Rage, boiling from the bottom of his breast, 
And sorrow mix'd with shame, his soul oppressed; 
And conscious worth lay iab'rmg in his thought, 
And love by jealousy to madness wrought. 
By slow degrees his reason drove away 
The mists of passion, and resumed her sway. 
Then rising on his car, he turn'd his look, 
And saw the town involvM in fire and smoke. 
A wooden tow'r with flames already blaz'd, 
Which his own hands on beams and rafters raised, 
And bridges laid above to join the space, 
And wheels below to roll from place to place, 
" Sister ! the fates have vanquish'd ; let us go 
The way v/hich heav n and my hard fortune show. 
The fight is fixVl : nor shall the branded name 
Of a base coward blot your brother's fame, 
Death is my choice : but suffer me to try 
My force, and vent my rage before I die." 
He said: and leaping down without delay, 
Through crowds of scattered foes he freed his way. 



£NE1S. 257 

Striding he pass'd, impetuous as the wind, 
And left the grieving goddess far behind. 
As, when a fragment, from a mountain torn 
By raging tempests, or by torrents borne, 
Or sapp'd by time, or loosen' d from the roots — 
Prone through the void the rocky ruin shoots, 
Rolling from crag to crag, from steep to steep : 
Down sink, at once, the shepherds and their sheep 
Involv'd alike, they rush to nether ground ; 
Stunn'd with the shock they fall, and stunn'd from 

earth rebound : 
So Turnus, hasting headlong to the town, 
Shouldering and shoving, bore the squadrons down. 1000 
Still pressing onward, to the walls he drew, 
Where shafts and spears and darts promiscuous flew, 
And sanguine streams the slipp'ry ground embrue. 
First stretching out his arm, in sign of peace, 
He cries aloud, to make the combat cease : 
" Rutulians, hold ! and Latian troops, retire I 
The light is mine ; and me the gods require. 
'Tis just that I should vindicate alone 
The broken truce, or for the bieach atone. 
This day shall free from wars th' Ausonian state, 
Or finish my misfortunes in my fate." 
Both armies from their bloody work desist, 
And, bearing backward, form a spacious list. 
The Trojan hero, who receiv'd from fame 
The welcome sound, and heard the champion's uamej 
Soon leaves the taken works and mounted walls : 
Greedy of war where greater glory calls, 
He springs to fight, exulting in his force ; 
His jointed armour rattles in the course. 
Like Eryx, or like Athos, great he shows, 
Or father Apennine, when, white with snows, 
His head,divme,obscure in clouds he hides. 
And shakes the sounding forest on his sides. 
The nations, over-aw'd, surcease the tight; 
Immoveable their bodies, fix'd their sight, 
voi n 1 7 



258 jENEIS. 

E'en Death stanch still ; nor from above the}'' throw 
Their darts, nor drive their batt' ring-rams below. 
In silent order either army stands, 
And drop their swords, unknowing, from their hands. 
Th' Ausonian king beholds, with wond'ring sight, 
Two mighty champions match'd in single fight, 
Born under climes remote, and brought by fate, 
With swords to try their titles to the state. 

Now, in closed field, each other from afar 
They view ; and, rushing on, begin the war. 
They launch their spears; then hand to hand they meet 
The trembling soil resounds beneath their feet: 
Their bucklers clash ; thick blows descend from high, 
And flakes of fire from their hard helmets fly. 
Courage conspires with chance ; and both engage 
With equal fortune yet, and mutual rage. 

As, when two bulls for their fair female fight 
In Sila's shades, or on Taburnus' height, 
With horns adverse they meet: the keeper flies: 
Mute stands the herd ; the heifers roll their eyes, 
And wait th' event — which victor they shall bear, 
And who shall be the lord to rule the lusty year: 
With rage of love, the jealous rivals burn, 
And push for push, and wound for wound, return: 
Their dewlaps gor'd, their sides are lav'd in blood : 
Loud cries and roaring sounds rebellow thro' the wood: 
Such was the combat in the listed ground ; 
So clash their swords, and so their shields resound 

Jove sets the beam : in either scale he lays 
The champions' fate, and each exactly weighs. 
On this side life and lucky chance ascends: 
Loaded with death, that other scale descends. 
Rais'd on the stretch, young Turnus aims a blow 
Full on the helm of his unguarded foe: 
Shrill shouts and clamours ring on either side, 
As hopes and fears their panting hearts divide. 
But all in pieces flies the traitor sword, 
And in the middle stroke, deserts his lord. 



Now 'tis but death or flight: disarm'd he flies, 

When in his hand an unknown hilt he spies. 

Fame says that Turnus, when his steeds he join'd, 

Hurrying to war, disorder'd in his mind, 

Snatch'd the first weapon which his haste could find. 

'Twas not the fated sword his father bore, 

But that his char.oteer Metiscus wore. 

This, while the Trojans fled, the toughness held: 

But, vain against the great Vulcanian shield, 

The mortal-temper'd steel deceiv'd his hand : 

The shiver'd fragments shone amid the sand. 

Surpris'd with fear, he fled along the field, 
And now forthright, and now in orbits wheel'd: 
For here the Trojan troops the list surround, 
And there the pass is clos'd with pools and marshy 

ground. 
xEneas hastens, though with heavier pace — 
His wound, so newly knit, retards the chase, 
And oft his trembling knees their aid refuse — 
Yet, pressing foot by foot, his foe pursues. 

Thus, when a fearful stag is clos'd around 
With crimson toils, or in a river found, 
High on the bank the deep-mouth'd hound appears, 
Still op'ning, following still, where'er he steers: 
The persecuted creature, to and fro, 
Turns here and there, t* escape his Umbrian foe- 
Steep is th' ascent, and, if he gains the land, 
The purple death is pitch'd along the strand. 
His eager foe, determined to the chase, 
Stretch'd at his length, gains ground at ev'ry pace : 
Now to his beamy head he makes his way, 
And now he holds, or thinks he holds, his prey: 
Just at the p'nch, the stag springs out with fear: 
He bites the wind, and fills his sounding jaws with ain 
The rocks, the lakes, the meadows, ring with cries ; 
The mortai tumult mounts, and thunders in the skies; 

Thus flies the Daunian prince, and, flying blames 
His tardy troops, and, calling by their names, 



260 JENE1S. 

Demands his trusty sword. The Trojan threats 
Their realm with ruin, and their ancient seats 
To lay in ashes, if they dare supoly, 
With arms or aid, his vanquish'd enemy; 
Thus menacing, he still pursues his course, 
With vigour, though diminish'd of his force. 
Ten times already, round the listed place, 
Dne chief had rled, and t' other giv'n the chase 
No trivial prize is play'd ; for on the life 
Or death of Turnus, now depends the strife. 

Within the space, an olive-tree had stood, 
A sacred shade, a venerable wood, 
For vows to Faunus paid, the Latins' guardian god. 
Here hung the vests, and tablets were engrav'd, 
Of sinking manners, from shipwreck sav'd. 
With heedless hands the Trojans fell'd the tree, 
To make the ground enclosVl for combat free. 
Deep in the root, whether by fate or chance, 
Or erring haste, the Trojan drove his lance ; 
Then stoop'd, and tugg'd with force immense, to free 
Th' encumber'd spear from the tenacious tree; 
That whom his fainting limbs pursu'd in vain, 
His flying weapon might from far attain. 

Confus'd with fear, bereft of human aid, 
Then Turnus to the gods, and first to Faunus pray'd: 
* 4 O Faunus! pity ! and thou, mother Earth, 
Where I thy foster-son receiv'd my birth, 
Hold fast the steel ! If my religious hand 
Your plant has honoured, which your foes profan'd, 
Propitious hear my pious pray'r!" He said, 
Nor with successless vows invok'd their aid. 
Th' incumbent hero wrench'd, and pull'd, and strain'd; 
But still the stubborn earth the steel detain'd. 
Juturna took her time ; and, while in vain 
He strove, assum'd Metiscus' form again, 
And, in that imitated shape, restor'd 
To the despairing prince, his Daunian sword. 



jENEIS. 261 

The queen of love — who, with disdain and grief, 
Saw the bold nymph afford this prompt relief — 
T' assert her offspring with a greater deed, 
From the tough root the ling'rmg weapon freed. 

Once more erect, the rival chiefs advance : 
One trusts the sword, and one the pointed lance ; 
And both resolv'd alike, to try their fatal chance. 

Meantime imperial Jove to Juno spoke, 
Who from a shining cloud beheld the shock : 
" What new arrest, O queen of heav'n ! is sent 
To stop the Fates now lab'ring in th 1 event? 
What further hopes are left thee to pursue r 
Divine iEneas (and thou know'st it too) 
ForedoomM, to these celestial seats is due. 
What more attempts for Turnus can be made, 
That thus thou ling'rest in this lonely shade? 
Is it becoming of the due respect 
And awful honour of a god elect, 
A wound unworthy of our state to feel, 
Patient of human hands, and earthly steel? 
Or seems it just the sisters should restore 
A second sword, when one was lost before, 
And arm a conquer'd wretch against his conqueror? 
For what, without thy knowledge and avow, 
Nay more, thy dictate, durst Juturna do? 
At last, in def'rence to my love, forbear 
To lodge within thy soul this anxious care : 
ReclinM upon my breast, thy grief unload: — 
Who should relieve the goddess, but the god ? 
Now all things to their utmost issue tend, 
Push'd by the Fates to their appointed end. 
While leave was giv'n thee, and a lawful hour 
For vengeance, wrath, and unresisted pow'r, 
Toss'd on the seas thou could'st thy foes distress, 
And, driv'n ashore, with hostile arms oppress. 
Deform the royal house ; and irom the side 
Of the just bridegroom, tear the plighted bride:— 



262 iENEIS. 

Now cease at my command." The Thund'rer said: 
And, with dejected eyes, this answer Juno made: 
" Because your dread decree too well 1 knew, 
From Turnus and from earth, unwilling I withdrew. 
ELe should you not behold me here alone, 
Involv'd in empty clouds, my friends bemoan, 
But, girt with vengeful flames, in open sight, 
Fngag'd against my foes in mortal fight. 
'Tis true, Juluma mingled in the strife 
By my command, to save a brother's life, 
At least to try ; but (by the Stygian lake — 
The most religious oath the gods can take) 
With this restriction, not to bend the bow, 
Or toss the spear, or trembling dart to throw. 
And now, resigned to your superior might, 
And tir'd with fruitless toils, I loathe the fight. 
This let me beg (and this no fates withstand) 
Both for myself and for your father's land, 
That, when the nuptial bed shall bind the peace 
( Whbh I, since you ordain, consent to bless,) 
The laws of either nation be the same ; 
But let the Latins still retain their name, 
Speak the same language which they spoke before, 
Wear the same habits which their grandsires wore. 
Call them not Trojans: perish the renown 
And name of Troy, with that detested town. 
Latium be Latium still; let Alba reign, 
And Rome's immortal majesty remain." 

Then thus the founder of mankind replies 
(Unruffled was his front, serene his eyes:) 
"Can Saturn's issue, and heav'n's other heir, 
Such endless anger in her bosom bear? 
Be mistress, and your full desires obtain ; 
But quench the choler you foment in vain. 
From ancient blood, th' Ausonian people sprung, 
Shall keep their name, their habit, and their tongue: 
The Trojans to their customs shall be tied : 
I will, myself, their common rites ptovide: 
The natives shall command, the foreigners subside. 



JENE1S. 263 

All shall be Latin m ; Troy withou* a name : 
And her lost sons forget tVoi.. whence they came. 
From blood so mix'd, a pious race shall ilow_, 
Equal to gods, excelling all below. 
No nation more respect to you shall pay, 
Or greater ofPrings on your altars lay." 
Juno consents, well pleas' d that her desires 
Had found success, and from the cloud retires. 

The peace thus made, the Thunderer next prepares 
To force the wat'ry goddess from the wars. 
Deep in the dismal regions void of light, 
Three daughters, at a birth, were born to Night: 
The e their brown mother, brooding on her care, 
Indu'd with windy wings, to flit in air, 
With serpents girt alike, and crown'd with hissing hair. 
In heav'n the Dir« call'd, and still at hand, 
Beibre the throne of angry Jove they stand, 
His ministers of wrath, and ready still 
The minds of mortal men with fears to fill, 
Whene'er the moody sire, to wreak his hate 
On realms or towns deserving of their fate, 
Hurls down diseases, death, and deadly care, 
And terrifies the guilty world with war. 
One sister-plague of these from heav'n he sent, 
To fright Juturna with a dire portent. 
The pest comes whirling down : by far more slow 
Springs the swift arrow from the Parthian bow, 
Or Cydon yew, when traversing the skies, 
And drench'd in pois'nous juice, the sure destruction flies. 
With such a sudden, and unseen a flight, 
Shot through the clouds, the daughter of the Night 
Soon as the field inclos'd she had in view, 
And from afar her destin'd quarry knew — 
Contracted, to the boding bird she turns, 
Which haunts the ruin'd piles and hallow'd urns, 
And beats about the tombs with mighty wings, 
Where songs obscene on sepulchres she sings. 



264 #.NEIS. 

Thus lessen'd in her form, with frightful cries 

The Fury round unhappy Turnus flies, 

Flaps on his shield, aw' flutters o'er his eyes. 

A lazy chillness crept along his blood ; 

Chok'd was his voice ; his hair with horror stood. 

Juturna from afar beheld her fly, 

And knew th' ill omen, by her screaming cry, 

And stridor of her wing. Amaz'd with fear, 

Her beauteous breast she beat, and rent her flowing hair. 

" Ah me !" she cries, u in this unequal strife, 

What can thy sister more to save thy life ? 

Weak as 1 am, can I, alas ! contend 

In arms with that inexorable fiend ? 

Now, now, I quit the field ! forbear to fright 

My tender soul, ye baleful birds of night ! 

The lashing of your wings I know too well, 

The sounding flight, and fun'ral screams of hell ! 

These are the gifts vou bring from haughty Jove, 

The worthy recompense of ravish'd love ! 

Did he for this exempt my life from fate 1 

() hard conditions of immortal state! 

Though born to death, not privileg'd to die, 

But forc'd to bear impos'd eternity ! 

Take back your envious bribes, and let me go 

Companion to my brother's ghost below ! 

The joys are vanish'd : nothing now remains 

Of life immortal, but immortal pains. 

What earth will open her devouring womb, 

To rest a weary goddess in the tomb ?" 

She drew a length of sighs ; nor more she said, 

But in her azure mantle wrapp'd her head, 

Then plung'd into her stream, with deep despair; 

And her last sobs came bubbling up in air. 

Now stern iEneas waves his weighty spear 
Against his foe, and thus upbraids his fear: ' 
" What further subterfuge can Turnus find ? 
What empty hopes are harbour' d in his mind ? 



-ENEIS. 265 

'Tis not thy swiftness can secure thy flight: 
Not with their feet, but hands, the valiant fight. 
Vary thy shape in thousand forms, and dare 
What skill and courage can attempt in war : 
Wish for the wings of winds, to mount the sky ; 
Or hid within the hollow earth to lie !" 
The champion shook his head, and made this short 

reply : 
" No threats of thine my manly mind can move : 
'Tis hostile heav'n I dread, and partial Jove." 
He said no more, but, with a sigh, repress'd 
The mighty sorrow in his swelling breast. 
Then, as he rolFd his troubled eyes around, 
An antique stone he saw, the common bound 
Of neighboring fields, and barrier of the ground — 
So vast, that twelve strong men of modern days 
Th' enormous weight from earth could hardly raise. 
He heav'd it at a lift, and, pois'd on high, 
Ran stagg'ring on against his enemy. 
But so disorder'd, that he scarcely knew 
His way, or what unwieldy weight he threw. 
His knocking knees are bent beneath the load ; 
And shivering cold congeals his vital blood. 
The stone drops from his arms, and, falling short 
For want of vigour, mocks his vain effort. 
And as, when heavy sleep has clos'd the sight, 
The sickly fancy labours in the night; 
We seem to run ; and, destitute of force, 
Our sinking limbs forsake us in the course: 
in vain we heave for breath ; in vain we cry: 
The nerves, unbrac'd, their usual strength deny; 
And on the tongue th' fault'ring accents die : 
So Turnus far'd : whatever means he tried 
All force of arms, and points of art ernploy'd, 
The Fury flew athwart, and made th' endeavour voia 

A thousand various thoughts his soul confound: 
He star'd about; nor aid, nor issue found: 
i lis own men stop the pass; and his own walls sur- 
round. 



266 JENEr.i 

Once more he pauses, and looks out again, 
Arid seeks the goddess-charioteer in vain. 
Trembling he views the thund'nng chief advance. 
And brandishing aloft tne deadly lance: 
Amaz'rl he cow'rs beneath his conquYing foe, 
Forgets to ward, and waits the coming blow. 
Astonish'd while he stands, and fix'd with fear, 
Aim'd at his shield, he sees th' impending spear. 

The hero measured first, with narrow view, 
The destin'd mark ; and, rising as he threw, 
With its full swing, the fatal weapon flew. 
Not with less rage the rattling thunder falls, 
Or stones from batt'ring-engines break the walls 
Swift as a whirlwind, from an arm so strong, 
The lance drove on, and bore the death along: 
Nought could his seven-fold shield the prince avail, 
Nor aught beneath his arms, the coat of mail: 
It pierc'd through all, and with a grisly wound 
TransrlxVl his thigh, and doubled him to ground. 
With groans the Latins rend the vaulted sky: 
Woods, hills, and valleys, to the voice reply. 

Now, low on earth, the lofty chief is laid, 
With eyes cast upwards, and with arms display'd, 
And, recreant, thus to the proud victor pray'd. 
u I know my death deserv'd, nor hope to live: 
Use what the gods and thy good fortune give. 
Yet think, oh ! think, if mercy may be shown, 
(Thou hadst a father once, and hast a son)— 
Pity my sire, now sinking to the grave. 
And for Anchises' sake, old Daunus save ! 
Or, if thy vow'd revenge pursue my death, 
Give to my friends my body void of breath ! 
The Latian chiefs have seen me beg my life: 
Thine is the conquest, thine the royal wife: 
Against a yielded man, 'tis mean, ignoble strife." 

In deep suspense, the Trojan seem'd to stand, 
And, just prepared to strike, repressed his hand. 



JEhrtilS. 267 

He roird his eyes, and ev'ry moment felt 
His manly soul with more compassion melt ; 
When, casting down a casual gianct he spied 
The golden belt that glitter'd on his side, 
The fatal spoil which haughty Turnus tore 
From dying Pallas, and in triumph wore. 
Then rous'd anew to wrath, he loudly cries, 
(Flames while lie spoke, came flashing from his eyes,) 
" Traitor ! dost thou, dost thou to grace pretend, 
Clad as thou art, in trophies of my friend? 
To his sad soul a grateful off 'ring go ! 
'Tis Pallas, Pallas gives this deadly blow." 
He rais'd his arm aloft, and at the word, 
Deep in his bosom drove the shining sword. 
The streaming blood distain'd his arms around; 
A.nd the disdainful soul came rushing through the 
wound. 



FINIS. 



